


Good Neighbors

by adeclanfan



Series: The Midsummer Chronicles [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Dom/sub Play, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, First Time, Group Sex, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild S&M, Multi, Rating: M, Rating: NC17, Rope Bondage, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2579033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adeclanfan/pseuds/adeclanfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Coming Of Age. Legolas returns for another Midsummer festival in Imladris. He isn't the only one visiting this year. There are those who would like to meet Thranduil's submissive son. </p><p>Pure Elf smut, again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

"My Lord Elrond, a group of travelers has arrived just now from Lothlorien for the Midsummer festival."

Something in Lindir's voice made Elrond looked up from the letter he was writing to study the younger man's face. There was a tightness to Lindir's jaw that never boded well. "What's wrong, Lindir?"

Lindir winced. "I'm sorry, my Lord, but I thought you should know Lord Celeborn himself is among this year's guests."

Stunned, Elrond grimaced, contemplating the implications of a visit from the Lord of Lothlorien at this particular feast day. "Take him to the room you prepared for Prince Legolas and prepare the spare room next to Aragorn's for the Prince."

The tension in Lindir's shoulders eased, and he even managed a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. "I'll see to it immediately, my Lord."

"I know you will, and that is why you are indispensable to me at times such as this. Don't worry about Lord Celeborn. As long as you don't wear mithril, he'll leave you in peace."

Lindir had worn mithril a few times, because Elrond asked him to, but the warning was a precautionary one he would also give Legolas, when and if, he arrived. "Will you have someone let me know if the Prince arrives? I'd like to give him the same warning I've given you about Celeborn, preferably before they meet for the first time."

"Legolas will come this year," Lindir stated with absolute certainty, not realizing his word choice went straight to Elrond's groin. 

Elrond smiled, "It won't be the same without him."

"Aragorn will sulk for at least a month if King Thranduil's kept the Prince at home this year."

Rolling his eyes, Elrond nodded, "Valar have mercy... nobody wants that." 

Pushing the chair back and standing, Elrond patted Lindir on the shoulder. "It will all work out, Lindir, don't worry so much. You should enjoy Midsummer with the rest of the young people."

"I'd rather hide in the library," Lindir admitted. 

Elrond knew this, but to have the young ellon admit as much made him laugh out loud. "Ilúvatar gifted you with a pretty face, mellon. It would be a shame not to use it to find yourself a lover at Midsummer."

Lindir winced. "Lord Celeborn brought Haldir with him."

"I'll have your meals sent to the library," Elrond promised him. "I suppose I'd better go and make a proper greeting to my unexpected guests."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"Ah, Lord Elrond," Celeborn said. "I was wondering where you were."

"Lord Celeborn. I wasn't made aware you would be joining us for Midsummer this year." There was a slight rebuke in the statement. "Or, I would have been more prepared to greet you."

Celeborn smiled. "I meant it to be a surprise. You and my grandsons haven't been to Caras Galadhon in quite some time. I've missed your company."

Elrond wasn't buying it, because he knew the true reason the kinky old Elf-lord was here. "If you told me in advance you were coming, it would have given me ample time to send word to Mirkwood and warn Prince Legolas not to make the journey."

"Yes, exactly," Celeborn laughed. "The opportunity for me to meet Legolas Greenleaf has never presented itself."

"No doubt his absence at your meetings with Thranduil was by his father's careful design."

"Oh, of that I have no doubt. Thranduil is an arrogant, greedy sort. I only want to meet the boy. I've heard many good things about Thranduil's young son."

Elrond sighed, "No good things would bring you running to Imladris at Midsummer, you've no doubt heard a salacious rumor." He started them walking in the direction of the main house and guest rooms. The walkway over the river was deserted as they crossed it and started up the stairs. 

"I have."

"Well, then allow me to confirm it for you. Prince Legolas was wearing Mithril last year as a favor to me."

"And was he also asked by you to act as guide and teacher to our young Dúnedain on his first Midsummer?"

Elrond narrowed his eyes at Celeborn's calling Aragorn 'our Dúnedain'. "Legolas did not need me to ask such a thing of him. He came to Imladris with that express purpose and I didn't see a reason to deter or deflect him from seducing Aragorn. That our agendas were aligned was a happy coincidence that served all three of us well." 

"Especially you."

"Think what you will. You always do, in any case, but both young men saw the benefit of each other's company last year."

"And will the Mirkwood Prince be at the top of your priority list again this year?"

"I leave it to him to decide in whose bed he sleeps. And I will warn him not to wear Mithril this year unless he is certain he knows what sorts of situations it can get him into."

Celeborn laughed, a deep, pleased with himself chuckle. "You think I'm going to tie him naked to the nearest tree and ravish him in plain sight of all..."

"You have earned your reputation." Elrond's eyes locked with the other man's, and he lowered his voice, "Whatever things you have heard, Legolas is a mere babe by our reckoning of time. Trusting and pure of heart, more like his grandfather than his father."

"Really?"

"Oropher would have adored Legolas. As it is, Thranduil keeps Legolas' heart under lock and key. His keen mind and tireless his body are purely his own, though."

Celeborn pondered that for a full minute. "You'll make the introductions, won't you, mellon?"

"Of course, I will. Your usual room is ready if you want to clean up. Legolas hasn't arrived, yet. The best time for introductions will be before dinner."

"I look forward to it."

Elrond was not looking forward to it. Not at all. Poor Legolas. One day wearing mithril didn't make him ready for someone of Celeborn's dominant inclinations. He would have to see to the young Prince's appetites himself lest Legolas find himself thrown to the wolves. 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"Lord Elrond," Legolas smiled brightly at the Lord of the city as he dismounted from his horse and allowed the groom to take him away to the stables to rest and eat. 

"Prince Legolas. It is good to see you, again."

"And you."

Elrond put a warm hand on Legolas' shoulder. "We have a number of visitors for Midsummer this year. I feel I need to warn you, mellon, word has been spread of your choice to wear mithril last year. It has attracted the attention of Lord Celeborn, and he arrived unannounced this morning for the festival." 

Legolas' eyes widened at the news. "He's here because of me? Are you sure?" 

"I feel as though this awkward situation is my fault entirely, so I questioned him regarding his motives. My suspicions were correct. Celeborn has certain... interests. The most well known is his enjoyment of bondage and domination."

The younger man grinned, "You're trying to protect me."

Elrond nodded, "I suppose it is natural to want to protect those I've taken to my bed when I think someone near to them has questionable desires."

"I've never met Lord Celeborn, so I don't know why he would want me specifically."

"Thranduil knows Celeborn's reputation as well as I. Perhaps better, as they knew each other well, and travelled in the same social circles, in Doriath."

Legolas smirked. "I can take care of myself, you don't have to defend me, or my honor. It was my choice to wear the mithril publicly and let it be known to all here I was willing to submit myself to another for pleasure."

"Celeborn has asked that I make the introductions, and I put him off until dinner because I knew you would want to clean up after the ride from Mirkwood. This way you will have time to get acquainted before the festival begins in earnest on the morrow. Is that acceptable to you, my Prince?"

Legolas shrugged, "It would be rude not to at least meet him."

"Rude is what he will be expecting of the son of King Thranduil. Spoiled, soft, arrogant, weak... those are the preconceived notions he'll be carrying about you. And, he has to know you'll be beautiful as the King's child." Elrond ran his thumb over Legolas' dust smeared cheekbone, tenderly. "When he speaks with you, he'll see you are none of those things; Celeborn will see you as I do."

"How do you see me, my Lord?"

Elrond threw an arm around Legolas' shoulders and whispered in his ear. "Do you need to hear words? Can't you tell by way I can't help but touch you when you are near me? You are beautiful, my Prince, in the way only a lover of both masculine and feminine forms can truly appreciate. As for the rest, Legolas, you are strong, confident without being arrogant or vain, gentle with a pure of heart and soul. You have seen senseless death and destruction, but rather than harden you it makes you all the more compassionate. You are a treasure your father has done well to hoard." 

There was no way for Legolas to respond to so many compliments from someone he respected and admired as much as he did Elrond, so he did the one thing he had been aching to do since he slid off his horse, kiss his dark haired Elf-lord lover. 

"Will you be joining me for a bath this year?" Legolas teased him. 

Elrond sighed, and shook his head, "Alas, no, there is much I still need to see to and Lindir is looking a little flustered by the unexpected arrivals. I've had the room next to Aragorn's prepared for you. The rooms share a bath between them, and the hot water is already drawn for you."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"I'm glad your father let you return."

"He's hoping you have an unmarried High Elven female lurking in a corner waiting to ensnare me."

Elrond winced, sympathetic to the Prince's plight. "I'm not sure if I have one of those, but I have an Elf-lord with a league's worth of silk rope and an itch to used it on a wood-elf Prince, so watch yourself tomorrow."

"I'd better go and scrub the road off, then." 

"I'll see you at dinner."

"I'm looking forward to it."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"The view is better from closer," a voice said at Legolas' shoulder. 

It wasn't normal for the Prince of Mirkwood to stand behind hedges and peer at strangers, but the desire to get a look at Lord Celeborn before dinner was enough motivation risk being caught spying like a child. 

"Dinner is still an hour away," Legolas stated to the stranger, "I've grown impatient, but I don't think that is Celeborn with Elladan."

The man moved to stand beside Legolas, shoulder to shoulder, looking at the two Eldar talking in the courtyard below. "How do you know?"

"No circlet." In the back of his thoughts, Legolas noted the pale hair and lack of circlet on the Elf beside him and dismissed him as not Celeborn, as well. 

Maybe he should try the baths next. 

"Says the Prince who isn't wearing a circlet himself," the Elf chided. "Why do you choose not to wear it though it is befitting your station?"

Legolas gave an elegant shrug. "Wearing it means people expect less of me. On first meeting, other Eldar assume as Thranduil's son I don't have to work hard or be the best at what I do, so why would I bother trying. I'm a Prince, so what does it matter if my arrows don't find their marks every time or my arm can't wield a dagger with lethal accuracy."

"You don't want people to make things easy for you."

"Never. I would rather have people loathe me for being Thranduil's heir than underestimate me. I can always earn their respect with what I am capable of." 

The Elf laughed. "Spoken like Oropher's grandchild. It is my pleasure to meet you, Legolas Greenleaf."

For the first time, Legolas looked at the other man, really looked at him and noted a resemblance to Arwen and the twins in the shape of his eyes and mouth. "I've managed to stumble across Lord Celeborn in the gardens, then. Not where I would have expected you to be, my Lord." 

The silver haired Elf-Lord laughed and waved a dismissive hand at the garden. "You've caught me spying as well. I admit I was curious about the arrival of the Mirkwood Prince, so I went for a walk around Imladris in search of the most beautiful blonde ellon I could find, that would certainly be Thranduil's mystery child."

Legolas sighed. "I suppose you should keep searching, in that case, as I think the ellon talking to Elladan is fairer than I."

"And he's modest, too, this Prince. Are you certain you are from Thranduil's loins and not a Midsummer gift left to your mother by a different iathrim?"

Legolas winced, "I'm sure my father has asked himself as much on more than one occasion, usually when I do something that shows the entire Woodland Realm just how young and foolish their Prince still is."

Celeborn put a hand on Legolas' shoulder, turning the Prince to face him. "The whole point of youth is to be foolish and reckless, a wise father knows this and makes... allowances."

"I don't know how my father will feel or respond to his son wearing mithril to Midsummer last year, making him the subject of rumors among our neighbors in Lothlorien."

Celeborn tipped his head to the side, studying Legolas. "It doesn't matter what Thranduil's opinion on the subject is. You aren't in Mirkwood today. Nor will you be tomorrow, and as such, what matters is what your needs are and if you can put aside the feel of curious Eldar eyes long enough to take what you need while it is available to you."

"You aren't what I was expecting."

"We are even, then, because you are very much what Elrond told me I would find and nothing like I imagined you would be." 

Legolas eyed him, "Have you come all this way just to fuck me?"

Celeborn's eyes widened at the wood-elf's use of the crude Mannish word for sex. "I don't know about 'fucking'... I don't always engage in intercourse when I dominate someone, especially if the relationship is new or the political situation tenuous." 

It was meant to reassure Legolas and it did, but... "Oh." 

"Now, there's a resemblance to Thranduil... in your pout." He looked down at the courtyard. "For the record, that is Haldir talking to my grandson. He is Captain of my guard. It would be amusing to see the look on his face if I tell him you think he is the more beautiful of the two of you, but then I will have to live with his insufferable preening for months. He is quite aware of his attractiveness. Do me a favor and don't stroke his ego too much, or I may have to leave him behind until he gets over himself enough to be tolerable, again."

Legolas burst into laughter, then pulled a somber face, "I will do my best to keep him humble. Although, I think my father would be interested to know the Captain of your guard is open to... ego stroking."

Now, it was Celeborn's turn to laugh out loud. "Thranduil and Haldir are in no danger of falling into bed. They despise each other." 

At Legolas' surprise, he shrugged and added, "The Eldar do not have a large population in Middle Earth, and it grows smaller by the decade. Most of us know each other, or have at the very least met for some occasion or another, and it is a rare treat to meet someone new. Very few of the wood-elves are known to us. I cannot even give an estimate on your current population numbers."

Legolas smiled. "Nor can I on yours, so I suppose we are again even."

"Galadriel and I have nothing against wood-elves or King Thranduil. If any of your Silvan elves wander out of the forest and find their way across the river, I assure you, we would treat them as honored guests."

Legolas' eyes narrowed. "Would you allow them to settle in your lands or inform my father some of his subjects had wandered away?" It was a test.

"Personally, if they wanted to go back to Mirkwood, I would offer a boat ride to them. And if they did not wish to return, I would encourage them to make the journey to the Grey Havens."

Celeborn's response surprised Legolas. "You want us to leave Middle Earth?"

"I fear it is time..."

Celeborn was cut off by the appearance of Lord Elrond. "I should have known the two of you would find each other without my assistance." He look he gave Celeborn spoke volumes, and most of it was a warning. "It is nearly time for the evening meal."

Lord Celeborn smiled, ignoring the tone of Elrond's voice. "Legolas was just admiring the view from up here."

"I was," the Prince admitted.

Elrond's eyes flicked to the courtyard below. "Ah, I heard you brought Haldir. He is nice to look at."

"I've heard you do more than look if he turns up at Midsummer."

Lord Elrond surprised Lord Celeborn and Legolas by smiling, "Once the wine loosens him up, he proves a worthy lover."

"Legolas is operating under a delusion that Haldir is prettier."

Elrond shook his head, "Delusion is correct. You are fairest of all, Prince."

"Who am I to argue with two Elf-lords? I will concede to your wisdom on the matter."

Celeborn smirked, "Now, that is a good attitude to have on the eve of a Midsummer festival."


	2. A Good Host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning for graphic sex, rimming
> 
> a few Quenya translations, because I am filled with glee to know these naughty Elven words actually exist. Please, feel free to write your own Elf smut and use them. (Some came from here - http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/reference/linguistic_foolery/22_words.php )
> 
> ingolemo: one with very great knowledge, like a Sage  
> anion: I desire  
> nasque: bondage  
> mailëa: lustful  
> yérë: sexual desire  
> maira: admirable, excellent, precious (if Lord Elrond has a pet name for you, this is a good one, right, my precious?)

"Legolas!" 

The Prince heard the familiar voice and turned on his heel in the middle of the path to spot his friend, who was dodging in and out of the mass of bodies moving in the direction of the open patio area where dinner was being served. 

It didn't take Aragorn long to catch up to him, but in an effort to keep the line moving past them, Legolas tugged the Man against the stone wall and thoroughly kissed him, hands fisting in his deep blue silk tunic. 

When they broke their kiss, Legolas smiled. In his ear, the Prince whispered, "I was wondering if you would turn up."

"Don't I always?"

The Elf raised an eyebrow and nodded, "Yes, but for some odd reason you appear more quickly if food is involved..."

"Not my problem Elves can't match my appetite."

Legolas laughed. "Some of us can match your appetites."

Aragorn grinned wickedly, "I hope so. Or this Midsummer will be disappointing."

Wrapping his arms around the Man, the Elf pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. "Well, we can't have you disappointed on Midsummer, now can we, mellon?" 

At the table reserved for the most important guests and Lord Elrond's family, Arwen immediately bade them to sit beside her. Meaningful looks passed between Arwen and Aragorn and spoke volumes about their blossoming feelings for each other. 

One glance at Lord Elrond and the furrow on his brow, just below the circlet he wore, told Legolas he was aware of the interactions and didn't like it one bit. 

Poor, foolish young Aragorn. 

Despite the much anticipated reunions, Legolas found the evening meal filled with distractions and a sense of discomfort he couldn't shake, even with Aragorn on one side and Elladan on the other. He excused himself from the table at the conclusion of the meal. 

The feel of so many eyes on his back as he walked away made the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end. For a brief instant, the Prince considered collecting his belongings, saddling his horse and returning home.  
Imladris was his refuge, the place he longed for when being an example for his people became too much. If Rivendell was no longer a source of rest and acceptance, Legolas would grieve its loss from his life. 

He strolled in the gardens in the hopes of regaining his lost composure, and found himself drawn to his normal meditation spot. His favorite bench was surrounded on three sides by thick hedges a head taller than he and at Midsummer it was covered in colorful flowers in full bloom. Inhaling the delicate scent, Legolas sat cross-legged and emptied his mind of the thoughts that plagued him. The meditation helped him relax for the first time since he arrived.

It was only the sounds of voices in the garden sometime later that drew him back to the present. 

"Can't you see how uncomfortable all the attention makes him?" Arwen asked, voice exasperated. "I'm sure his father doesn't put up with people treating Legolas as an object."

"What would you have us do, little sister?"

"For a start, tell Grandfather to speak with our other visitors from Lothlorien, and order them to stop looking at the Prince like he's a piece of meat on a serving platter! It's disrespectful and insulting to someone I consider a good friend. No wonder King Thranduil loathes Haldir and his guards. Their immature leering is unforgivable."

It warmed his heart to hear how passionately Arwen defended his right to be here and feel comfortable. 

Another voice joined the conversation, "Arwen, please, I don't think Haldir means to offer insult. Legolas is very attractive," Elladan said, trying to soothe her temper. "They don't mean him any harm. It's Midsummer and who can fault them for reacting with mailëa. I feel lust when I spend too much time in Legolas' company myself, and it isn't as if I've never shared his bed."

Legolas smirked, raising his eyebrows at his friend's confession. 

The children of Elrond rounded the next corner and came face to face with Legolas. Grinning like a fool, the Prince grabbed Elladan by the front of his tunic and planted a wet, smacking kiss on his lips. With renewed enthusiasm for Midsummer fun, Legolas said, "Save a dance for me tomorrow, won't you, Ella'? It's been a while." 

Next, he pressed a kiss to Arwen's cheek, "Thank you, my Lady, for defending my honor at Midsummer, yet again."

"You are our guest and our friend. I will never forgive them if they chase you away," Arwen huffed. 

"I'm not going anywhere, except to my bed. It's been a long day and I have a feeling tomorrow will be... exhausting."

Arwen kissed him lightly on the cheek, "Sleep well, Legolas."

In the end, Legolas found he couldn't sleep, at all. He had too many questions he needed answers to. Mirkwood was not a fount of knowledge on the traditions surrounding wearing mithril, or anything regarding submission, and asking his father was a recipe for disaster, so he didn't feel prepared to leave his room at sunrise and find himself face to face with Lord Celeborn and his silk ropes. 

Standing at the balcony railing, Legolas caught sight of several dark shapes moving below. Servants making last minute preparations, and one he didn't expect to feel so relieved to see. 

Lord Elrond. 

Feeling eyes on him, the older man's gaze scanned the balconies and settled on Legolas, and he smiled a smile that sent a message straight to Legolas' groin. It was the smile, and his own reaction of relief and desire, sealing Legolas' resolve to remain in Rivendell for the feast day. 

He would not run away. There were reasons he'd come, and one of them was climbing the stairs to reach him as he watched. 

"You should be resting," Elrond told him.

"Can't sleep."

Elrond sighed, "I knew you weren't going to like all the unexpected attention."

"I don't know what to think, but I've decided to stay."

"I wouldn't fault you for forgoing tomorrow's activities or even wanting to leave entirely," Elrond admitted, but he took Legolas by the hand and pulled him into an embrace. "You have no idea how sorry I am. I know how much you look forward to Midsummer and having Imladris as a sanctuary."

Legolas pulled back and looked into his grey eyes. "You are what makes this place my sanctuary, ingolemo," he said, quietly. "It's been a difficult year for me. I've come to rely on your council. You introduced me something last year and I don't understand myself any longer. What is wrong with me? Why do I seek what I don't even understand?"

"What is it you are struggling with?"

"Anion nasque," Legolas whispered, ashamed to admit his obsession with being tied up. 

The Elf-lord blinked at his young friend in surprise. "Oh, maira, if it is bondage you want, this is the right place for it, but I am not the Sage you think me. I merely dabble with willing partners. Celeborn is the Master of such things."

"You said it was a bad idea to engage with Lord Celeborn if I don't know what I'm getting myself into."

Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose, nodded. "There are rules to the type of nasque Lord Celeborn practices. He expects submission and complete obedience. If he is displeased, he metes out punishments as he sees fit, at times, painful or humiliating. Let's go inside and I will attempt to explain the inexplicable."

They undressed each other at a leisurely pace and talked on the bed with their long limbs intertwined. 

Explaining bondage and domination to his young partner went more smoothly than Elrond expected. Legolas was as Legolas always is, intelligent, thoughtful and heart rending in his innocence and honesty. 

It was obvious the Prince had made attempts to research his questions on his own, and the lack of answers proved terribly frustrating. It was probably for the best the Prince didn't bring his questions to Thranduil, or who knew what sorts of offense the King would have taken at Elrond restraining and coupling with his son. A fact only be made worse by Legolas liking it and wanting more.

It was easy for their words to become caresses and those touches to ignite the fire of passion always smoldering under the surface of the respect between them since last Midsummer, but something in the Prince's passion was almost pleading. "What is it you need, maira?" Elrond asked. 

"Do you think... maybe..." Legolas stopped, shaking his head and frowning.

"Tell me what it is you want of me."

Legolas worried his lower lip between his teeth, thinking of how to phrase such an impertinent request. "All year I've wondered... Do you think... would you let me inside you?"

Caught completely off guard by such an unusual request, the Elf-lord stammered, "I don't know. I don't get asked such things very often."

"But you have?"

"Yes, of course. In my youth, for certain, I was as interested in bed hopping as any young Eldar male." 

Legolas was looking at him with such hope, Elrond felt his normal reserve crack under the weight of it. He handed the lubricating salve to Legolas and smiled. 

"You'll find me prepared. Glorfindel takes pity on me at Midsummer, he thinks I could use more sex, and somehow it's not as amusing as it sounds, but he's attractive enough in face and form, and blonde which is my preference in male lovers." 

Placing a couple of pillows in the middle of the bed, he settled himself on his stomach over them, offering his backside to the Prince, who wasted no time coating himself with salve and pressing the head of his cock into Elrond's passage. 

If he'd had time to think about what he was doing, Elrond might have worried, but Legolas took it slow and was considerate of his needs. 

When he was ready for more, Legolas was surprisingly skillful in his claiming of Elrond's body. He had the Elf-lord fisting his hands in the sheets and moaning shamefully. "Easy, Legolas. Have some mercy for an old man..."

"And will I receive mercy in return when I'm in your place?" Legolas panted in his ear, almost making Elrond spend into the pillow under him. 

Elrond clenched his teeth, "No."

"I will show you mercy," Legolas promised, "if you let me do this, again, someday."

The Elf-lord laughed, "Greedy Prince, already looking forward to the next time."

"You're so tight..." he groaned, almost a whimper, "Love being deep inside you."

Elrond pulled Legolas down for a kiss. "Come for me, young buck," he commanded, "Give me everything you've been saving up for me." In the next thrust, Legolas let go deep inside him, body jerking roughly as he spent himself and then collapsed on top of Elrond with a relieved sigh. 

He smoothly flipped Legolas onto his back and folded him in half, so his knees where to drawn almost up to his heaving chest. A gentle probe with his fingertips found salve and muscles stretched enough to take two fingers easily enough to forgo further preparation. "Ah ha. You learned your lesson last year."

"I'm ready for you this time."

Elrond tested the statement with his thick erection, and found it true enough. "Yes, you are."

"Harder..." Legolas begged, as soon as they set a pace.

Elrond sighed, "We really need to work on your patience." But, he gave the young Eldar the deep, relentless pounding they both craved until he filled Legolas' arse with his come. His moan was loud in the quiet room, the only other sound the Prince's gasps as he recovered enough to curl onto his side and grab one of the pillows for his head. 

"Is it after midnight?" Legolas asked, yawning.

Elrond chuckled, "No. It would appear we are ahead of schedule by an hour or two."

"Stay. Please?"

"For a little while..."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"Starting your rounds as a good host early this year? Admirable."

The Elf-lord winced, and then nodded at Golrfindel, continuing his journey toward the bath he knew was waiting for him. "This didn't have anything to do with being a good host." 

"If you managed to convince the Prince not to flee in terror from the Lothlorien delegation, your title of excellent host and peacemaker will forever be elevated to new heights."

Elrond missed a step and whirled on the Balrog slayer with a scowl, letting the temper he'd been holding in check flair at the first convenient target of opportunity, probably just what the other had intended all along if only to leech the poison Elrond was festering. "I shouldn't have to convince him of anything. Legolas has every right to enjoy Midsummer and be left in peace," he snarled. 

"Nobody is saying otherwise, my Lord." Glorfindel smirked, "If his father weren't so paranoid and anti-social, all of this could have been averted by simply introducing his son to the world, like a normal father, instead of hiding him away in that festering swamp." He put a hand on Elrond's shoulder. "Curiousity isn't the same as malice. If the beautiful King of Mirkwood doesn't want people to look upon his even more beautiful son, maybe he should have thought twice before he put the boy in his Queen's belly in the first place."

The Elf-lord considered that as they entered his sitting room, and then his bathroom where he proceeded to undress. "You don't have children, so you don't understand the mindset. My sons are lucky they favor their mother in looks. And Arwen is a gift I can't imagine I deserved."

"Aragorn is certainly glad she was born."

Elrond glared razor sharp daggers. "Mandos take me! Do not encourage him! It's laughable. Such a match is beyond ridiculous." He sank into the steaming water and sighed at the relief it offered.

"Your fostered whelp falling in love with your only daughter. I find it... poetic." Glorfindel grinned, removing his own clothing without invitation. "It has the level of irony worthy of a legendary tale, much like Luthien and Beren. Aragorn, son of Arathorn and last heir to Earendil's lost Man son, loves the beautiful daughter of Earendil's Eldar son." A large, wet sea sponge hit him square in the bare chest with a splat that sent water running down the front of him.

"Say one more word on the topic and I will see to it all your favorite pastries for the feast tomorrow are burned to ash while you watch."

Glorfindel eyed him to gauge the level seriousness of threat, and then shrugged and stepped into the tub. "Why don't we discuss the fact that you cheated the Midsummer clock and offered your ass to someone other than me."

"What makes you think..."

Now, it was Glorfindel on the attack, "If I check, I am certain I will find you are full of the Mirkwood Prince's seed." He stalked through the water to where Elrond was sitting and loomed over him. "Go ahead and deny it, so I can have the pleasure of tossing you over the edge of the bath and spreading you open to confirm it for myself."

The look they shared said they were both considering all possible outcomes of such an examination, all of which would end in sex, Elrond knew. "Spying is unbecoming of a hero of legend."

Gorfindel snorted, "As if I needed to see the act to know the whelp was mounting you like a rutting stag."

"If you didn't see anything, how..."

The other Eldar laughed, "I have the sounds you make when I'm covering you forever burned into my brain, my Lord. I would recognize those moans anywhere."

Elrond didn't bother to argue further. He wasn't ashamed of the things he did with anyone, least of all Legolas. "What sort of act of contrition do you require, Balrog slayer? Though I take exception to your claim on my arse, I will concede I don't get many offers, aside from yours, anymore."

"If it were just about anyone else, a single act of contrition would suffice, but it was a callow youth. And a submissive one, at that!" Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. "It is going to take more than one act this Midsummer to pacify me, starting with removing his ill gotten come from your body." 

Sighing, Elrond nodded, "Fine."

"The Prince's yérë flatters you, doesn't it, my friend?" Glorfindel said.

Elrond shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. "I suppose it does. I'm amused by his tenacity. Few admit to darker sexual desires at so young an age, and none really expect to have their curiosity fulfilled by someone in a position of authority. If I thought for a moment Gil-Galad would have let me take the lead in an act of passion at Midsummer, I might have mustered the courage to ask for such a thing myself."

Glorfindel's mouth formed a perfect 'o' at the mental picture of Elrond and Gil-Galad having such a conversation, and finally he chuckled, "The High King would have turned you over his knee and reddened your arse to the point you couldn't sit your horse for a week." 

"Probably," Lord Elrond conceded, "but it would have been worth a trip over his lap if he considered letting me top for even the briefest moment. And what if he was feeling indulgent on that particular night, as I was tonight with Legolas?"

The Balrog slayer added, "Or had too much wine. It would depend on how much of his trust you had earned and if the act was promising enough to make him willing to flout such ingrained tradition. I hope you aren't going to make it a habit with Legolas. Think of who his father is, and the egotistical monster you could create."

"What if I did?"

"I would feel compelled to teach you, and Thranduil's sensual heir, a lesson."

Elrond arched an eyebrow at the other man. "Oh, really? Possessiveness is a new sensation for you, isn't it?"

"I don't much like it. To be completely truthful." Then, his expression turned petulant. "He can't be any good..."

Elrond laughed out loud, "Oh, now I begin to see what this is about. There is only one way for you to find out how skilled Legolas is. Bend over for him, yourself, and let him take you."

"Never. It goes against every tradition of Eldar sexuality."

"Your loss, mellon." Then, to tweek him further, Elrond added, "I was moaning loudly, wasn't I?" The Elf-lord stood on the bench in the tub and leaned over the edge, exposing his backside in invitation. 

When he said he would clean the seed out, Elrond didn't imagine Glorfindel meant to do it with the tip of his tongue. He found it a pleasurable surprise. 

"At least he tastes good," Glorfindel grumbled. He picked up a small sponge and soaked it in the bathwater until it was hot and soft. Then, he added a little soapy oil to it and pressed it into Elrond's passage, before following it with his cock.

Elrond had never felt anything like it. Each thrust wrung a little of the water out of the sponge and it ran out of him and down the backs of his thighs. A second sponge followed the first with similar results, only now he felt pleasantly full with each thrust. 

"Like it?"

"Mmmm." 

Glorfindel gloated in his ear, "If I've begun to bore you, Elrond, all you had to do was say so. I have many tricks I can use to make you moan more loudly than ever."

The sponges were removed easily enough with oiled fingers before Glorfindel came in Elrond with a series of grunts and a final groan. He pulled out and slapped Elrond on the backside. "Now, you have officially begun Midsummer." 

While they dressed, Elrond laid out several new mithril strands he'd made and planned to give out today. At the Balrog slayer's raised eyebrows, he shrugged, "Just because Legolas doesn't know if he wants to be bound, doesn't mean I don't know a few residents around Imladris who would enjoy Lord Celeborn's particular inclinations."

Glorfindel picked up one of the leather strips and admired it. "Lovely." He turned to Elrond, "It would make a lovely contrast with dark hair." He held it up to Elrond's braid. 

"Oh, no. No. I'm the host."

"I can take over the hosting duties for you. You're looking for a way to distract Celeborn and take the heated gazes off Legolas. What better way than to offer yourself as sacrificial lamb to Celeborn's ropes?"

"No."

"I insist."

Elrond scowled, "This will not end well."

"I'll make sure you end well, don't worry."


	3. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more translations:
> 
> gwib: penis

Lord Celeborn was a bit surprised to see Legolas in the dining hall as the first rays of summer sun were turning the sky from inky darkness to grey. “Fair Midsummer to you, Prince. I see you rise early, as do I.”

Legolas nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “I hope you slept well, Lord Celeborn.”

Celeborn nodded, “I’ve always found I slept well in Imladris. The sounds of the falls are quite relaxing.”

“I agree.”

They moved along the line with the other guests, selecting foods from tables laden with summer’s bounty to add to their plates. Legolas chose a seat beside Celeborn at the empty head table. 

In between bites, Legolas would open his mouth to say something and then think better of it. After the fourth time it happened, Celeborn took pity on him, speaking first, “Ask your question, if you have one, I don’t eat curious wood-elves with my breakfast, or whatever it is you may have heard of me.”

The Prince’s cheeks flushed. "Lord Elrond said if I wanted to understand nasque I would be better served asking you," Legolas had trouble meeting his eyes. "But he warned me not to get involved with you if I didn't understand what your plans are."

"Sound advice," Celeborn nodded, sympathetically. "I can imagine the twisted tales Elrond has heard over the years." He lifted the Prince's chin until their eyes met. "I am no danger to you, Legolas. Acts of nasque are always done with complete consent, and I'm very careful with novices." 

“You don’t tie people to trees and let others use them?”

Celeborn should have been expecting this question, even his own grandsons had heard that very same rumor, and asked him about it, but the question still made him wince inside. "Allow me tell you the truth of that particular incident, Legolas. Perhaps it will help you understand nasque a little better.” 

Their meals finished, he led the young Prince to a padded bench in a quiet corner of the main hall. “During my youth in Doriath, I became interested in the concept of submission. I soon found it a surprisingly effective method of escape from the pressures of courtly life. 

“As a submissive, I became an instrument in the hands of a skilled, patient musician. It was liberating and exhilarating. I didn't have to comport myself in a manner befitting a Prince, I just had to feel and obey.

"In time, I found satisfaction in the dominant role as well; I learned to draw the music from others and the pleasure was every bit as much theirs as mine. 

“One submissive in particular was my favorite. He took my breath away from the moment I laid eyes on him. Our trust took many years to develop, as such things should, but it held fast and ran deep,” Celeborn recalled the early days with fondness. 

“His submission bordered on perfection and I loved him dearly for the precious gift of his trust," he reluctantly admitted. "One summer, we spent many days with him in more and more complicated rope bondage. Living, breathing, passionate flesh made into works of art by my hand and a few well placed knots. I pleaded with him to allow me to have an artist sketch him, but he only relented one time. I had that single precious sketch commissioned into a painting that still has a place of honor in my home in Caras Galadhon.”

Celeborn paused for a minute, trying to decide which details to share and how to best convey his experiences to young Legolas. "At Midsummer, during the height of our exploring of this form of nasque, we found ourselves in the deepest part of the garden among the tallest trees on my family’s property. His body was suspended from a high, strong oak branch and I'd bound his legs wide apart, so every inch of him was visible and available to me. Even the tiniest of breezes teased him intimately, raising gooseflesh on his arms and legs and stirring his desire.” 

He glanced at Legolas’ rapt expression and smiled. “My lover was never at a loss for desire. I pleasured him in every way: my mouth, hands and erect member working him to climax after climax. My focus was so completely on him I failed to notice we'd been discovered, a small group of nobles and servants lurked amongst the trees to watch, no doubt falling in love with him the same way I had.”

There was a moment of pause, again, but this time to get control over the sudden welling of old emotions. "I didn't notice them, for they were utterly silent. Awestruck, perhaps. He knew they watched and I couldn't seem to sate him no matter how many times I spilled seed into his mouth and arse.” 

Celeborn chuckled, and winked at the Prince’s wide eyed expression. “Exhausted myself, I asked him what more I could possibly do? It was then he told me he wanted one specific nobleman to take him from behind, bound and helpless as he was.” 

“He asked for the watchers to have sex with him?”

Celeborn nodded, “He did. But you must understand, this wasn't something we had ever done. Our acts had always been between us and us alone. Part of me balked at the idea of sharing him. They could look at him, but to let them in, asking someone to assist me with his pleasure? I wasn’t sure I wanted such help, but it was what he needed from me, so I sought the Lord from the shadows and offered my lover's bound form to him.”

Celeborn noticed they were no longer alone, behind and off to the side of their bench, Elrond was making a pretense of listening to something Elrohir was saying at a nearby table, but in truth he was listening to Celeborn’s story, too. “I do not believe I have ever seen a person disrobe so quickly. And who could have blamed him, it was Midsummer and the offering was not one anyone in their right mind would refuse. 

"They coupled as we all watched, with me on the outside for the first time, and able to see the magic they made together. When the climax took the Lord, my lover also spilled his seed onto his belly, chest and the ground below him. 

“I hadn't bound this part of him that day, as I sometimes did. I wanted his orgasms to flow naturally which was only fair as it was Midsummer. Secretly, I loved watching his ejaculate decorate the soft green grass.

"I found it difficult to imagine my beautiful submissive could want more, but as I loosened the ropes and lowered him to his knees, he lifted his buttocks into the air and begged me to find another among the watchers to fill him. 

“In the end, he took three Eldar, in addition myself, and thanked me when they'd found their pleasure with him and disappeared back into the shadowy depths of the trees. 

“Never before or again did I see him so thoroughly exhausted, or completely at peace with himself. 

"Word spread quickly of our adventures in the garden, and salacious rumors being worth their weight in gold in Doriath, we were never able to live it down.” 

For that, Celeborn was truly sorry. “I did what I could to assist time in excising the name of my beautiful submissive from the tales: bribes, threats, even blackmail if I thought it would help. 

“When he made the journey to the Halls of Mandos, few mourned my beautiful Oropher more profoundly than I.” 

It was the truth, and one Celeborn made the mistake of revealing to Thranduil too soon after his losing his father and two thirds of his warriors in the battle. The confession added to the burden of the new King’s grief and turned it to a loathing and disdain he’d never been able to ease between them. 

Legolas was gaping at him, pale blue eyes huge as saucers and jaw slack with disbelief. 

"Yes, Legolas, my submissive lover was your grandfather, the future King. Being submissive doesn't have to mean practicing submissive behavior outside of the bedroom. If anything, I choose to believe he was a better King for the patience and self-control he learned."

Celeborn could see the young Prince struggling to process so much information, and he patted his shoulder in sympathy. “I’ve had a few old friends ask for my skills today. You are welcome to watch as I work.”

"You loved my grandfather?"

"I have never stopped loving him, nor do I ever believe I can."

Legolas tilted his head to the side, "Is that why father doesn't trust you?"

"I don't know exactly why King Thranduil doesn't trust me, but I imagine tell him I loved his father didn't help matters. We are content to keep to our side of the river, and mind our own business, I assure you." His assurances seemed to appease Thranduil's son more than it ever would his paranoid sire. 

“Does it hurt? Being suspended in the ropes?”

“Not if it is done correctly. And I never leave someone suspended, or even simply bound, alone for too long. Eldar bodies are far from fragile, but I would regret it deeply if I caused injury. It won’t cause lasting harm for even a few hours of suspension bondage.” 

Legolas turned his head and met his eyes. “What would you do to me, if I let you?” he asked, considering. 

Celeborn raised an eyebrow at the Prince. The beating of his heart quickened slightly imagining Legolas naked and willing. “No suspensions. I find a simple restraint on the floor or a bed works best for an introduction. I would start you face down with minimal ropes to see how you fair, and if it is even something you enjoy.”

Legolas lowered his lashes, “You wouldn’t be tempted to have me?”

“Of course, I would be tempted,” Celeborn acknowledged. “I am, however, capable of patience and self-control when the situation calls for it.”

Legolas frowned, “And if I didn’t want your self-control?”

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, Celeborn said, “I’m sure we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“No pain?”

“No, of course not, not with a complete novice.”

“Punishments?”

“Only if you did something to earn it, and more than likely it would be something akin to the denial of your release rather than a flogging or even my hand on your bare hakka.”

The blonde Prince huffed and stared at his feet for a good minute or two before nodding, “I think I would very much like to try, but… it must be right now, if it is be at all.”

“Why?” 

“I need to be untied before Aragorn decides to do something unwise with Arwen and causes Lord Elrond to toss him into the river.”

Celeborn laughed out loud, amused beyond measure. “If you think you can manage such a rescue, you are a good and loyal friend. Brave, as well.” 

Legolas stood. "Where?"

"Your room will suffice, and I will meet you there momentarily. Remove your clothing and kneel on the floor before the door until I get there."

Legolas turned to go and Celeborn called to him, "Legolas."

When he turned back to look over his shoulder, Celeborn said, "You've made the courageous choice."

The Prince nodded, "I know."

_+_+_+_+_+_

Legolas felt odd kneeling naked on the hard stone floor. If he backed up a few paces, his knees would be on the rug, but Lord Celeborn told him to be near the door and he wanted to start off right. 

Celeborn let himself in without a word and smiled down at the Prince. "Good. You listened. And rather than seek comfort from the rug, you chose to adhere to the letter of my instructions. Well done."

He was rewarded with a caress to the side of his face. "How is it possibly you exceed even your sire and grandsire in beauty?"

Legolas' lips quirked, but he held back both smirk and smile.

"Tell me of your first experience with being bound."

His cheeks felt warm as he admitted, "A Silvan archer surprised me by binding my wrists while I was helping him restring old training bows in the armory."

Celeborn raised an eyebrow. "I see. And what did he do to you once he had you caught?"

Legolas winced, "He kissed me."

“Anything else?”

"He lifted my tunic and pressed a kiss to my belly."

"And then?" Celeborn prompted him.

Legolas sighed, remembering. "He licked a line along the top edge of my pants."

"Keep going. Why didn't you voice an objection?" As he spoke, Lord Celeborn circled him, keen eyes inspecting his naked body.

"I wanted to see what he would do. How far he would try to go, I guess." He bit his lip. "He tugged the fabric down and teased my gwib with his tongue."

"Did he bring you to climax?" 

"Yes."

Celeborn clucked his tongue, disapprovingly. "Has such a thing ever happened to you in the armory before?"

"No. Never."

"And how did the Prince of Mirkwood deal with such an impertinent archer? Surely you didn't just allow him to escape without a harsh word. Did you take his gwib into your mouth, in return?"

Legolas shook his head, long pale hair falling over his shoulder and down nearly to the floor. "No. I told him if he wanted more, he'd have to wait until after the bows were all strung and we could find somewhere more private."

Celeborn laughed. "Good for you, Legolas. You took control of the situation back from him, as you should have. Now, tell me how you came to be wearing mithril last Midsummer."

"Lord Elrond asked me to."

"Did he restrain you?"

"Only my wrists on the headboard of the bed."

"Ah, I see." He tapped his chin, thoughtfully. "I think we should try something more than simple wrist binding. I’d like to bind your legs as well, if you are willing to give it a try."

“Yes.”

“Good. Climb onto the bed and lay on your belly with your arms down at your sides.”  
Legolas did as he was asked, but his stomach clenched and it felt like he’d swallowed a handful of summer butterflies. 

The rope was cool against his wrists, and even more so against the skin of his ankles, but it soon warmed and the actual binding took only a few minutes. Lord Celeborn bound his ankles to the corners of his bed, leaving his thighs wide apart and his genitals uncomfortably exposed. His wrists were bound to his thighs.

“I want you to get used to my touch. Most need time to adjust to the hands of a stranger on their bare skin. I find massage works well.” 

The first thing he did was to gather the length of Legolas’ hair and quick braid all of it so it was out of his way. Then he coated his hands with oil, more oil than Legolas thought was necessary. Lord Celeborn’s hands were large and strong. And, it felt really good when he kneaded the tension from the muscles in his shoulders.

“It’s good to see even the young Eldar are a bit stiff after the ride to Rivendell.”

Lord Elrond explained the rules about not speak while bound, so Legolas merely sighed his appreciation at the touches. 

Massage was not something he experience much back home. Thranduil had definite opinions about who could lay hands on the Prince, and if they weren’t a healer or a servant helping dress him, no one touched him. Once in a while, he would dance with someone at a party, and even less frequently, he would find someone to share his need for sexual release. 

“Oh,” Legolas gasped as the Elf-lord hit a particularly sore spot between his shoulder blades. 

“A bit sore, just there?” Celeborn massaged around the spot of tension until the protesting muscles yielded to the superiority of his thumbs. 

Things got more interesting when Celeborn worked lower, down to his back. When he continued further down to his buttocks, and the massage got Legolas’ cock stirring. The Elf-lord chose a leg and massaged the back of his thigh and calf and foot. Then, he did the opposite limb and worked up, foot to thigh. 

Celeborn stopped to add more oil to his hands, and startled a gasp out of Legolas when the first place he touched on his return was the top of the Prince’s buttocks. His fingers parted the globes, caressing the sensitive valley between, but circling around the anus and stopping before the scrotum, then work his way back up. 

Legolas hummed his approval, at first, and then grunted with frustration when the fingers continued to miss his anus or his genitals. 

The pad of the Elf-lord’s finger gave his puckered opening a single caress making it clench in response. “Is this want you want me to massage, my poor young Prince?” Legolas didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. The smug satisfaction was in his voice. “I’d be willing to wager this part of you has already been thoroughly massaged this morning. In fact, I bet it’s very sensitive and a bit stretched. How many fingers can you take, I wonder?”

Sighing, Legolas raised his bottom just a little. 

“Oh. Do you want me touch you more?”

“Please.” 

“I think you need a short rest. I’m going to step outside and give you a few moments to think about what you are feeling and what you want to ask me for, before we continue.”


	4. Atonement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for anal sex, rimming, fingering, sex while in bondage, threesome

"Is the Prince in there?" Glorfindel asked.

Celeborn narrowed his eyes at the other man, but nodded, "He is. I'm giving him a short rest." 

"I have some business with Legolas when you’re finished with him."

His eyebrows raised at the unusual tone of his voice, and even more unusual request. "What sort of business would that be, Glorfindel?"

"He's gone against not one, but two of the traditions of Midsummer."

"Really? I can't imagine the Prince found time to make such trouble already today. He’s been with me for the last hour and we were breaking our fast in full view of everyone as the sun rose.”

"Prince Legolas cheated the Midsummer rules, he started hours before midnight. What’s worse is Lord Elrond let the youngster have him. It’s not right."

The Elf-lord’s eyes widened in surprise. "Are you saying Elrond bottomed for the Prince?" Celeborn asked, filled with amused disbelief.

Glorfindel nodded, solemnly. "I found more than enough evidence to know it for fact."

"I see." Celeborn looked back at the door he'd come out of. "I don't suppose the Prince knows about the traditions of Midsummer as they relate to who submits sexually to whom."

Glorfindel scowled. "Obviously not. This, at least, his father should have explained, before sending Prince Legolas off to sow his seed here at Midsummer."

"So you found Elrond full of the boy's spending?" Celeborn didn't bother to hide a smile. It was an amusing mental picture, and sheer audacity of it raised his respect for Legolas.

"I did, and it was my pleasure to remove every trace of the Princeling from Lord Elrond." 

"And, of course, replace his seed with your own," Celeborn added. 

Gorfindel crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Would you have it any other way?"

"No, I don't suppose it should be otherwise,” Celeborn sighed, shaking his head. 

"Elrond has a high level of fondness for Legolas, but I did not think he would indulge the carnal whims of a whelp, even a Princely one. And don’t forget they cheated the midnight rule."

"Has the Prince taken his heart?" 

It would be interesting if the Elf-lord fell in love with someone as open and trusting as Legolas. Not that love would be a bad thing for Elrond. He’d been alone for a very long time, and as such, it might prove beneficial to him. And what made it better was imagining King Thraduil’s reaction to such a relationship. Thranduil would pitch a lovely fit, and Celeborn would have paid money to see it.

"Who knows?" Glorfindel huffed, impatiently.

The Elf-lord studied the other man for a full minute, before stating, "Jealously does not suit you, Balrog-slayer." 

“Then, the Lord of Imladris should not give away what is mine.”

Celeborn gestured to the room, "Inside you will find Thranduil's son bound and aroused to the point of wantonness. I was just about to make him beg for me to use him. Perhaps, this would be a good time for us to explain the rules to him, since the King of Mirkwood was remiss in this fatherly duties."

The mention of Celeborn's handiwork had Glorfindel's eyes lighting up. "It would save Legolas from any such flagrant breaches of protocol in the future."

"From what I have seen of him so far, Legolas might enjoy such a lesson." 

Celeborn led the way back into the room with Glorfindel on his heels. 

The Elf-lord knelt on the floor beside the bound figure on the bed. "Legolas, how do you fair? When asked a direct question, I expect you to answer completely and honestly."

The Prince's eyes flicked from him to Glorfindel, then back to him, confused but willing to accept the other Eldar’s presence. "I'm fine."

"Glorfindel would like to ask you a question."

Glorfindel perched a hip on the bed at Legolas' shoulder and stroked the stray hairs back from the Prince's brow. The Prince’s sharp blue eyes regarded him, curious and wary. "Did you have sex with Lord Elrond before midnight?" 

Legolas' eyes widened, and he swallowed before answering, "I did."

"And was it you as the aggressor in the sex?"

"Yes… At first."

Glorfindel grunted in satisfaction at the confession. "Did he explain such sex is highly unusual, even at Midsummer?"

Legolas nodded. "Lord Elrond said you are the only one he allows to take him."

"He didn't explain why?"

The bound Elf licked his lower lip. "He said you take pity on him at Midsummer because you think he doesn’t get enough sex." Then as a afterthought, Legolas added, “And he has a weakness for blonde Elves.”

Both Celeborn and Glorfindel laughed, the Balrog-slayer nodding, "Yes, his preferences are well established." 

Glorfindel continued to pet the Prince's fair hair. "Elrond doesn’t get enough chances for sexual release, this is true. But, it isn’t out of pity I find pleasure with him at Midsummer, I seek him out of respect and gratitude for the home and the sense of purpose he provides for me in his city.” 

“I understand,” Legolas admitted. 

“Lord Elrond should have turned you down and explained such an act goes against the rules of proper Midsummer behavior. The Eldar social hierarchy is very clear about who can fuck whom. Kings can have anyone who is willing, but nobody can have a King except another King."

"Balrog-slayers earn a special place only slightly lower than Kings," Celeborn added, with a wink. "And next would be Lords and Ladies of the Eldar."

"And then young Princes," Glorfindel rumbled. 

 

Legolas sighed, disappointed, but he didn't say anything against the archaic traditions. 

"To ask Lord Elrond was a small, forgivable error, but to take him was a serious breach of sexual tradition. Do you understand, now?" 

"I understand." And as much as he wanted to roll his eyes, he managed not to, for fear it would earn him a punishment in front of Glorfindel. 

“What would you have the Prince do, Glorfindel, to make this right between you?”

“An apology and a simple act of atonement would suffice.”

Celeborn smirked. “Define your idea of simple act of atonement.”

“I want Legolas to decide his own punishment, since this is his first offense.”

“Why?”

“I don’t trust myself not to go too far with him looking so perfectly helpless and lovely in your ropes.” 

It wasn’t lost on Celeborn or Glorfindel how his words made the Prince shiver. 

“So be it.” Celeborn’s grey eyes held Legolas’ blue ones. “You must decide how best to smooth things over between you and our Balrog-slaying friend.”

To Glorfindel, Legolas said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was asking for wasn’t allowed. Will you forgive me?” 

“Yes, I forgive you,” Glorfindel said, agreeably. “How do you plan to show me your sincerity?”

Legolas considered all the possible options for punishment. He could pleasure him with his mouth, the Prince was very good at it, but what Legolas really wanted was for Glorfindel to fuck him, hard and deep, while Lord Celeborn watched.

“You should do to me what I did to Lord Elrond. That would only be… fair.”

Glorfindel hissed like a boiling tea kettle and ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “I’m trying to give you an out, boy. And you go and ask for the very thing I meant to spare you.”

“I don’t need, or want, to be spared a punishment I’ve earned,” Legolas bristled, annoyed. 

Celeborn found the exchange amusing and chuckled. “You heard him, Balrog-slayer. He doesn’t want you to go easy on him. He wants you. Don’t you, Prince?”

“Yes,” Legolas admitted. 

“Merciful Valar,” Glorfindel groaned, “But I do want you, too.”

Celeborn placed a hand on Legolas’ shoulder. “I don’t think it would be wise to leave you alone with him, though.”

Legolas looked up from under his lashes at Celeborn. “I should start by pleasuring Glorfindel with my mouth. Then, I would… do the same for you, my Lord, while he takes me.” 

Glorfindel groaned, rolling his eyes and a hand going to the front of his pants where he already had a considerable bulge forming in the fabric of his breaches. “It would be wise to make sure he is quite stretched before I enter him, I have more girth than any I know.”

Legolas looked to Celeborn, and risked voicing his concern, “Could you bind my hands in a different manner, or not at all, so I can rest on my elbows?”

“Yes. That is a worthy suggestion, Legolas,” Celeborn set about untying the ropes around his wrists while Glorfindel removed his clothing. 

The Elf-lord used a single length of rope and a simple knot to bind his forearms together, making it more comfortable to rest on them and his elbows, and lifting his upper body off the bed. 

In this position, his face was at the perfect level when Glorfindel knelt on the soft mattress and offered his cock to Legolas for pleasuring. He set to work, licking and kissing up and down the length before taking it into his mouth to swirl his tongue around to plump head. Glorfindel wasn’t exaggerating, his organ was very thick and Legolas imagined his jaw would ache for days. 

He had to stop for a moment, though, when Celeborn’s tongue found his exposed bottom for the first time, making him cry out in surprise. The Elf-lord was as clever with fingers and tongue as Legolas had ever experienced, and he was soon having a difficult time keeping Glorfindel on the edge of pleasure due to the intensity of his own body’s reactions. 

Tossing his head to move the braid to his other shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Lord Celeborn’s face buried in between his buttocks. If he could have moved his ankles, Legolas would have opened his legs wider, wanting the other’s tongue inside his sensitive hole, but the bonds held securely. 

He writhed in frustration and was given a stinging slap on his buttock that made him grunt and immediately stop moving.

“Let’s see about those fingers, shall we?” Celeborn asked him. “One… two… and…” Celeborn had a smile in his voice, coaxing Legolas gently in time to the motions of his hand. “Yes, that’s it, take just a bit more. Good boy.” 

To Glorfindel, Celeborn said, “I’ve got most of four fingers in his passage. I’d say the Prince can handle some girth.”

The gwib in his mouth disappeared, and Legolas lowered his head onto his arms, while his anus was inspected by them. 

“I have no words,” Glorfindel sighed. “He’s perfect.”

“Not altogether unexpected given who he comes from, is it, mellon?”

The fingers withdrew, Legolas’ muscles clenching in vain to try to keep them. The frustrated growl he let out earned him a matching stinging handprint on his other buttock. 

Strong hands dragged the Prince down the bed, relaxing some of the tension on the ropes at his ankles and someone tugged his knees wide apart, cupping his penis and testicles in hot hands while rolling and gently squeezing the tender bits. 

“He’s leaking a small river of sap from his young, eager root.”

A tongue delved his hole, while a second lapped at the erection, teasing his foreskin and glans. 

“I noticed,” Celeborn said, breath hot on Legolas’ scrotum. 

Glorfindel’s tongue quested inside Legolas’ passage, and Legolas was ashamed to admit he was bucking against his mouth. “I want to taste him, but I want to fuck him more.”

“Take him. And when you’ve finished, we should stand him up and put a spile in that young hole, so our captive Prince runs with Eldar cream like a Maple tree flows with syrup.” 

Glorfindel backed away, “The mingled essences of two Elf-lords and a Balrog-slayer would be worth a taste…” He settled his weight on Legolas’ body, lining his organ up and pushing inside with careful movements. “Oh, Mandos take me, this feels glorious.”

Legolas had to agree.

With all the tongue work Legolas did on the other man, the fucking was hard and fast and deep. The sounds of grunts and moans and flesh slapping flesh echoed in the room. 

His eyes squeezed closed in pleasure, Legolas was surprised to feel flesh bump his lower lip. He opened eyes and mouth, eagerly swallowing the Elf-Lord’s sword while his other hole continued to take it’s filling as well. 

Celeborn withdrew unexpectedly after a relatively short time, with a hand caressing the Prince’s cheek. “Oh no, you don’t, young Prince. I’ll not succumb to your gifted tongue like the randy Man-child you’re used to pleasuring. We have plans for my ejaculations.”

Legolas gave him a wolfish grin. 

“Tell me, boy, if I asked Haldir to come in here, would you want him to take you, too? What about a groom from the stables? Or a cook’s assistant?”

The response he got was better than words, Legolas came from the taunting, seed spilling onto the sheets beneath him as he groaned, thrashed back against Glorfindel. 

“Never mind, I think you’ve answered the question well enough,” Celeborn chuckled, and he planted a kiss on Legolas’ lips. 

Glorfindel groaned, “Sweet. So damned sweet.” His hips slapped on final time against the backs of the Prince’s thighs and he pumped the younger Elf full in long spurts. 

“Move, Balrog-slayer, we can cuddle him after. He’s got a wicked tongue, and I’m ready to give him two loads.” 

Celeborn was true to his word. The first orgasm was quick, but deep. Only then, did he cover Legolas and work him properly until a second wave of pleasure spilled into his passage as he nipped and sucked the young Eldar’s neck and shoulder. 

“Enough. We need to get him untied. His arms are trembling from fatigue.”

Celeborn’s knots were easily removed, much to the Prince’s relief. His arms were tired, and his backside was dripping with their combined ejaculate.

They rolled Legolas onto his back and took turns making him climax in increasingly varied and creative ways until he was boneless and drifting in and out of sleep. 

Glorfindel kissed him, “Thank you, Legolas. That is the best Midsummer atonement I’ve ever received. You are breathtaking. In a few years, I’d even consider letting you cover me at Midsummer.” 

“I’ll remember that…” Legolas told him, dreamily.

“I hope you do.”

Legolas tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down. “Gotta check on Aragorn…” he insisted.

The other man laughed, “Rest now, young one. You’ve earned it. I’ll go check on Aragorn for you. Nobody wants to see him get on Lord Elrond’s bad side today.”

To Celeborn, he said, “Thank you, my Lord. For allowing me to share Prince Legolas with you this Midsummer.”

 

“You’re welcome, Glorfindel. I should be thanking you, as well, for assisting me. We work well together.” 

Celeborn watched him dress and slip out the balcony door, then turned his attention back to the beautiful, sated Prince curled on his side beside him on the bed. “I will be right back with some warm water and cloths to clean you up.”

Legolas mumbled something incoherent, and Celeborn sighed. He hadn’t intended to make Legolas’ first experience with him something for the Ages, but somehow it had become just that. 

The Prince was asleep on his return, and Celeborn bathed him very gently and applied ointment to his abused arse, so he wouldn’t wake to pain. 

Once he himself was clean, Celeborn climbed into the bed and pulled the sleeping Prince into his arms, kissing his forehead and cheek and jaw, and settled the thin summer sheet over them for their nap. 

He’d nearly fallen asleep when the gentle, amused mind-touch of his beloved whispered, “Celeborn, what have you done?”

“I’m being a good neighbor,” he told Galadriel. Her response was crude and made him smile. “He’s so beautiful…”

 

Legolas woke in his own bed, which in itself was odd at Midsummer, but he wasn’t alone. Lord Celeborn’s body lay fitted behind his own, and the old Elf-lord was doing the same unconscious petting of his hair Glorfindel had done earlier. 

The Prince wasn’t sure what it was all about, but he didn’t dislike it. Casual touching just wasn’t something he was accustomed to. He yawned and stretched, “What time is it?”

“If you dress quickly, you can still catch the end of the Midday meal.”

Relief washed over him, “Oh, good. I was worried I slept the day away.”

“You earned a rest.”

Legolas noted the amusement behind the words, “I’m not the only one.”

“I had a nap.”

“Have I kept you from tying someone else up, my Lord?”

Celeborn laughed. “My schedule is flexible. I’m not in a hurry. I’ve found I enjoy cuddling after sex almost as much as the act itself.”

Legolas rolled over to face him, “You do?”

“Don’t you?”

Legolas looked down. “I’m not used to touching without sex. Father would get angry if he saw any of the wood-elves being too familiar with me.”

Celeborn’s brows drew together. “You must lead a very isolated life in Mirkwood. How do you have lovers?”

“I hide them, for as long as I can, or I wait until I can travel to Imladris to find release. There are more than enough willing partners at Midsummer to make it worth the year’s wait.”

Celeborn didn’t seem to approve, “Touch is necessary.”

“I touch myself, if it counts.”

The Elf-lord laughed, “That isn’t the sort of touch I was referring to, but it certainly counts if it is the only release you are finding outside of Rivendell at Midsummer.” Then, he did the strangest thing of all, pulling Legolas into an embrace and stroking his back.

“I can’t… I’m not Aragorn. It will be a while before I will be capable of more sex.”

The Elf-lord didn’t let him go, if anything his arms around the Prince tightened and drew him nearer. “This isn’t going to lead to sex. I suppose it could if we were to stay in bed long enough, but I agree about the necessity of a few hours respite. This is like the massage. Touching without the necessity of intercourse, cuddling and petting. Touch can convey many things, like acceptance and affection. Or it can calm, soothe.”

“Do you always do this after nasque?”

Celeborn nodded, “I do. Most like it. For you, I imagine it will take time to get used to.”

“I don’t dislike it.”

“But it makes you uncomfortable because it is unfamiliar.”

Leoglas nodded, “Yes, exactly.”

“You should visit Caras Galadhon, Legolas. I’m sure we could find you a few partners your King would approve of.”

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea.”

Celeborn kissed his cheek. “We are neighbors, and I’d like for us to become friends.”

Legolas sighed, “I think I’d like that, too.”


	5. Confessions

“You worry too much, Father,” Elrohir told Elrond as his eyes followed Legolas from the main hall, with Celeborn not far behind. 

Elrond grimaced, “Others don’t worry nearly enough. Someone has to pick up their slack.”

“Grandfather won’t hurt Legolas. And just maybe, they will find they enjoy each other’s company. Our wood-elf Prince could use more Eldar in Middle Earth to advise him; ones who aren’t paranoid and anti-social.”

He had to admit his son had a good point. “Yes. I believe having connections with Lothlorien would be beneficial to him.”

“If I were you, Father, I would show a bit more concern for my own welfare today.” To illustrate his point, Elrond’s son tugged his braid where the mithril sparkled in the morning light. “If I didn’t think you were wearing this to take the curiosity away from Legolas and our grandfather, I would be asking around to see if you lost a wager.”

Elrond laughed. “You would think that, wouldn’t you. I lost no bets, son.” The Elf-lord lowered his voice, “If you must know, it is a part of my punishment. I was caught by Glorfindel after getting an early start to my Midsummer.”

“Father! You?” Elrohir gasped, amused and scandalized.

“I like sex as much as any.”

His son nodded, and in a mock serious tone, he said, “Not so fun getting caught in your own web, is it, old spider?”

“It’s a rare thing. So enjoy your mirth while it lasts, ‘rohir. The father you are accustomed to will return soon enough to lecturing on responsibility and duty.”

Elrohir patted his shoulder, “It’s Elladan who hates those lectures. I’m just grateful you didn’t take a crown for yourself and wall us all up in a smelly, festering, darkly enchanted forest realm.”

Elrond pulled a face at the second unfavorable reference to King Thranduil. “Good things have come from Mirkwood. I wouldn’t mind an additional son, one more like Legolas... he’s a fine example of a young Eldar.”

“You can’t adopt Legolas, Father, he’s already grown. Aragorn will have to satisfy your need for more chicks to crow over.” To this statement, he added, “Probably all for the best Legolas isn’t our kin, too. It would be awkward and incestuous considering how much lust he inspires around Rivendell.”

“I agree.” 

Elrond’s satisfied smile made his son chuckle. “Oh Valar, you didn’t? No wonder you risked getting caught tupping before midnight.”

“The transgression was well worth the hassle of explaining wearing mithril at my own Midsummer gathering,” Elrond admitted. 

Elrohir rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “Is it also worth the dark look on Glorfindel’s face.”

“I cannot comment on why our Balrog-slaying friend is out of sorts today. I’ve done everything in my power to appease him.”

It was his son’s turn to be worried, “I can’t imagine he was pleased finding you with Legolas. You may have injured his pride.”

“Glorfindel’s pride will survive this day, of that I am certain.”

Elrohir tugged his father’s braid, again, “I should wear mithril once and see if anyone offers to tie me up.”

“Some, such as your sister, would be tempted to bind your mouth and not undo the gag until next Midsummer. Others might find a quiet place to tie you up and conveniently forget where they put you.”

The younger man shrugged, “I could be trained to curb by my tongue. Perhaps by the right Lady…” His eyes followed one particular Lady as she winked and added an extra swing to her hips as she passed them. 

Her eyes weren’t on him, though, Lady Alais was looking at Elrond and his mithril braid.

“That’s it.” Elrohir huffed. “Give me one of those mithril thongs I’ve seen you giving out to people this morning.” 

Elrond shook his head. “No. I have a job for you to do. I noticed a group of serving girls just finished their work. If you have such an interest in adventure, go and show them how much we appreciate the hard work they do for us, like a good and dutiful son. They’ve been directing hopeful looks at you and your brother for weeks.”

That was all the encouragement his son needed. “It would be my duty and my pleasure.” 

He disappeared and Elrond’s frown returned, because he couldn’t find the dour faced Balrog-slayer anywhere in the crowded hall.

 

_+_+_+_+_+_+_

 

Arwen was sitting in Lord Elrond’s private garden, looking out at the river, when Aragorn found her after breakfast. “Is it true?” he asked, quietly.

She turned to looked at him, and her eyes told the story, more than he wanted to hear. “I have decided to return to Lothlorien.”

“I see.” His voice was surprisingly calm, in stark contrast to what he felt. 

Aragorn wanted to rage or howl, but he’d come to know Lord Elrond’s only daughter well enough in the last year to know once she made her mind up about something, she was rarely dissuaded, even by her wise and noble father. “I’m going to miss you.”

Arwen patted the cushion on the bench beside her. “Come and sit with me.” He did as she asked and Arwen turned her body toward him and took his hands in hers. “I will miss you, too, Aragorn.”

“You don’t have to leave, Arwen. This is your home. I… I’ll go away, I’ve been thinking I’d very much like to see a city of Men soon. Without me here, you won’t have to leave, you can stay.” 

It was his fault. He was falling in love with her, but he was too young and inexperienced to be very coy, anyone who knew him could read his moods and his expressions. 

Loving Arwen wasn’t something he was allowed to do, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt alive when she was with him. He felt whole. She was kind and giving and beautiful, and everyone who knew her adored her. 

Aragorn was an orphan, a Man, and the furthest thing from worthy of her love. And Aragorn knew her father or brothers would feel the same about him.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, Aragorn, no. Please. Please, don’t even consider leaving Imladris. You aren’t ready for the dangers you will face. There is much you must still learn. I don’t want you to think I’m leaving because of you.”

“But you are.”

“No. I promise you, my decision has nothing to do with you.”

Aragorn didn’t believe her. “If it isn’t my fault, then tell me why you have to go,” he demanded, his voice breaking in a way that left no doubt he was on the verge of showing much more emotion than either of them would be comfortable with. 

The young Man wasn’t even sure Arwen saw him as anything more than a little brother she doted on. 

He looked away from her. 

“Aragorn,” she said, and her hands cupped his chin gently and made him look at her. Her eyes welled with tears, as she said, “I never intended to stay this long. I only planned a short visit, but I’ve stayed an entire year in Imladris. I have lessons I am neglecting and my grandmother is becoming impatient.” 

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Aragorn wanted to touch capture it, but he’d never dared to touch more than her hand before. 

“I stayed because of you, Aragorn,” Arwen admitted. “If I continue to defy my Lady Galadriel’s wishes, it will be because of how fond I have grown of you. And that will make you a target of her… wrath.”

Aragorn took a ragged breath and released it through clenched teeth, but he had no words to give her. His mind was a whirlwind of questions. 

“When Grandfather arrived for Midsummer, my first thought was she sent him to fetch me back to Caras Galadhon. I imagined she gave him orders to bind me hand and foot and toss me over his saddle for the trip, if I resisted.” She gave a wan smile. “I was surprised when Elladan told me he’d come because he wanted to meet Legolas.”

Aragorn hadn’t heard that, and raised an eyebrow.

“I fear he wants to do more than simply meet poor Legolas, though.” Arwen added, “One thing I learned living in Lothlorien was who to listen to for the best, most salacious, gossip. And the rumors said Lord Celeborn and King Oropher, Legolas’ grandfather, were passionate lovers for a very long time.”

At his gasp, Arwen giggled. “I haven’t seen Legolas this morning. Have you?”

“No.”

“If he doesn’t appear by Middday, you should find out what has happened to him. For his sake.”

“Did you really stay because of me?”

Arwen nodded, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean you should get any ideas about trying to bed me today, young Man. One year is almost no time at all to me and my kin.” She caressed his cheek. “And my being fond of you doesn’t mean I love you in a romantic way, or ever will.”

She looked at him from under her long, dark lashes, coyly. “My father and brothers would never approve.”

Then, she sighed, “ And from what I hear, Men hop from bed to bed at your age, spreading their seed far and wide, and I would find it highly unflattering to be just one of any number of females to catch your eye for a tumble.”

“Never,” Aragorn breathed. 

“You are the last of your line, Aragorn. The only kin we have left from my uncle’s blood. At least, you should think about marrying a woman of your people and producing a child.”

Aragorn really hadn’t giving it much thought. Mortal women, marrying or even fathering children were concepts alien to him. He was busy training for some vague and elusive future, and didn’t know if he would ever want those things the way he wanted one more day in Arwen’s presence. 

“How long do I have?” Aragorn asked. “I’m mortal, I know that, but how long does a Dúnedain live if they aren’t killed by Orcs, as my father was.”

Arwen took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t know, mellon. That is a question only my father or grandfather would have insight on.”

“I don’t want to be a King of anything.”

She smiled, sympathetically, “I don’t blame you. My father has a saying, though. ‘The only King who should have the right to wear a crown is the one who doesn’t want it.’” 

“When will you go?”

“I’ll go with Grandfather and Haldir after Midsummer.”

A few days is all he had left with her, then. Aragorn wanted to howl at the unfairness of it all. “Will we meet again?”

“I don’t have my father’s gift of Foresight. I almost wish I did, but I couldn’t bear it if I looked and found the answer to be no. Could you?”

Aragorn shook his head, “No.”

“Then there is only one thing we can do, and that is to make the most of the time we have left. Aragorn, you must promise me to be careful wherever you decided to travel outside of Imladris, always be mindful that you are mortal. And if the Valar will it, we will have many opportunities for our paths to cross in the future.”

He looked down at her long, elegant fingers entwined in his rough, calloused ones. “I want to kiss you,” Aragorn confessed.

Arwen smiled. “Of course, you do. So do half the people in Rivendell for the Midsummer festival. My lips have been very busy today.”

“May I?”

Tapping a finger on her lower lip, considering his request, she smirked at him, “Maybe later.”

 

_+_+_+_+_+_

 

“Have you seen Legolas?”

Elladan looked at the Man, and narrowed his eyes, “Who?”

“Legolas. Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. I’ve been looking for him for an hour and I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”

“I haven’t stumbled across any Princes today smelling of forest, but I’d like to find one. Especially if he is attractive and can suck a gwib.”

“Elladan!” Aragorn gasped, and his eyes flashed with dangerous, but righteous, anger.

The other man patted Aragorn on the shoulder. “Peace, Aragorn. It was a jest. I saw him at sunrise, and he slipped away with my Lord Celeborn, who was looking as smug as a cat with a mouse between it’s paws.” 

At the look on Aragorn’s face, Elrond’s son said, “Stop frowning or I’ll tell Arwen you don’t want her to kiss you.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I knew it. You do want to kiss my sister today.”

Aragorn’s cheeks flushed. “I haven’t kissed her. Not once. I swear it.”

“Oh, I know. If you tried, and she didn’t want you to, we’d very likely be stitching and bandaging some part of you by now.” He stepped closer to the young Man. “You can kiss me, if you like, Man-cousin. I won’t stab you.”

Aragorn couldn’t decide if Elladan was making another joke or a serious offer. “I appreciate the offer, but…”

“You can’t be besotted with my sister and the wood-elf Prince, at the same time. That is pure selfishness…” Elladan patted his shoulder. “I will take the Prince off your hands. And Elrohir can carry you to the Halls of Healing when Arwen injures you.”

“Are you so sure Arwen won’t let me kiss her?”

Elladan raised an eyebrow at him in a perfect imitation of his father. “If my sister lets you kiss her, it will be Father who hurts you.”

Aragorn didn’t doubt it.


	6. Lady's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for threesome sex, the use of a strap-on dildo or three.

In the clusters of people milling about, Lord Elrond watched as Lady Alais accept a leather satchel from Haldir. She looked inside the bag and a grimace of profound pain twisted her lovely features, tears welled in her eyes. 

He started in that direction, intent on rescuing her, and by the time he got to her side she was sobbing into Haldir’s shoulder. 

“My Lady? Are you unwell?” he asked, sending a scathing look at Haldir.

Alais pulled back to look at him. “I’ll be fine in a minute, my Lord. Haldir has just given me a gift from home. It caught me by surprise.“

“It invoked painful memory for you, obviously, and such a gift would have been better offered in private.” 

Elrond took her hand and helped her up. He led her, followed by Haldir, to a quiet room and sat down with her on a sofa chair. “How can I help you, Alais…” Elrond asked, quietly.

“I don’t know if you are aware, my Lord, but I lost my husband and our lover on the same day. They died defending each other in battle.”

Elrond was stunned, and saddened, to learn someone so kind and gentle had suffered such a devastating loss. “This something I never knew. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“When they were gone, I wanted so very much to follow them into death.” Her skin was ghostly pale, and her eyes still held tears. “My Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn would not let me fade away, they lent me their strength when I had none.”

The Lord of Imladris pulled her into a hug, and she clung to him as she had moments before with Haldir, but she didn’t cry. The storm had passed.

“I was never really happy in Lothlorien without my loves,” she admitted. “It was Lord Celeborn who suggested I visit Imladris and get some distance from the ghosts that haunted me in Lothlorien.” She smiled a watery smile at him. “I never returned to Caras Galadhon.”

Of this, Elrond was aware, but it didn’t surprise him, as it had happened to many before her. 

This place where he chose to build his city held positive energy, calm and soothing. Some of it he wanted to attribute to Vilya, the Elven ring of power over which he had been made guardian, but good never came from the Rings. It was the river and the valley that held the power, and the love and friendship of the residents who lived here. 

“Most of my belongings remain in Lothlorien. My Lady had them put aside, in safe keeping, for me. A few things she gives Haldir to bring each time he visits.” She beamed at the pale haired Eldar, her fondness for him undisguised. “And for that I am grateful beyond words, but some items are very strong reminders of the loves I lost.”

“I’m sorry, my Lady. You know I would do anything to spare you more pain,” Haldir told her. 

Alais sighed, “I know. If Lady Galadriel thought this…” Alais’ hand patted the satchel reverently, “would be of use to me at Midsummer. Then, it is for the best you brought them.” 

Something changed in her expression, and she chuckled, “Valar have mercy on me, I hope it is not the Sight which made her select these things to give me this Midsummer.”

Now, Elrond was curious. “May I?” 

Alais handed the leather bag to him. He opened the bag and surveyed the contents, his breath escaping in a hiss of genuine shock. “Mercy. I hope you are right about a vision.” He shook his head, “That would prove… awkward.”

“What is it?”

“You didn’t look?” she asked Haldir.

He shook his head. “No, of course not, my Lady. The packages are private.”

Alais took the bag back from Elrond and reached inside. Her hand reappeared clutching a mass of leather strips and silver buckles. A good sized phallus made of soft, wool stuffed leather hung from the center of the straps which made a harness for it. It was the sort of thing a woman would wear to penetrate a man or another woman.

Haldir stared at the thing with huge eyes trying to understand what it was, and then he started to laugh. “Mandos spare me! I don’t even know what to say.” He bent forward to look in the open satchel and gasped for he found several other phalluses in different lengths or girths or made of other materials. “I don’t know if I am excited by this or terrified.”

“I share your sentiment, mellon,” Elrond admitted, shuddering as his mind contemplated Legolas’ warm, flesh phallus from earlier being replace by something carved of ebony or bone. 

“Have you ever?” Haldir asked him.

Elrond was quick to answer in the negative. “That was never something a woman asked of me, not even my Lady wife.”

“My husband and other partners found they quite enjoyed it,” Alais stated, confidently.

The two male Elves looked at Lady Alais doubtfully, and she smiled at their discomfort. 

Haldir voiced what they were all thinking, “Who would Lady Galadriel have seen you using these things on today, I wonder?”

“My talents with phalluses and rope were quite sought after in Lothlorien at Midsummer. I studied nasque under Lord Celeborn’s strict hand for many hundreds of years.”

Elrond couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. “You, my Lady? You are the last I would expect to wear Mithril.”

“The same thought I had about you, Lord Elrond, and yet there is mithril in your braid today.” Alais smiled shyly at him, more like the Lady he knew than just the moment before. “I put it behind me, when I came here, but it seems Lord Celeborn’s visit has awakened a deep slumbering piece of me, and I am not alone. Seeing so many wearing mithril this year makes me long for ropes and a willing partner.”

Her bag had held coils of rope and strips of cloth as well as the more adventurous sexual items. 

Elrond took his last mithril strip from around his neck and held it up. “It would be my honor, Lady Alais, to offer you this and myself for your arts.”

Alais ran a fingertip over it. “You make these yourself each year, Lord Elrond?”

“I do, yes.”

Her smile grew wider. “I will have it, as it is yet another thing to be grateful to you for, if you will assist me in braiding it in.” 

“I don’t want to left in the cold,” Haldir stated, thinking himself all but forgotten. He dropped to one knee before Alais, “I have committed a cruel transgression on Midsummer by making you cry, my Lady.”

“You didn’t know your gift would make me cry, mellon.” Alais caressed his cheek, with definite tenderness. “You don’t need to worry I will leave you behind; I had no intention of letting you escape me today. I’ve missed you.”

Haldir smiled, “I won’t run scared, no matter what you want to put in my backside.”

Elrond unbraided the braid at her temple with nimble fingers and had the mithril braided in a few minutes later, even though her hair hung to her thighs when unadorned. 

“Where shall we go?” Haldir asked. 

Lady Alais grinned up at him. “I happen to know Lord Celeborn has sent those seeking his skills today to the Pavillions down at the river’s edge. We marked the path with ribbons painted with mithril stars and tied silk drapes around each for some privacy.”

Elrond didn’t want to venture where Celeborn had set up court, and it seemed neither did Haldir. 

“I would prefer a bit more privacy than just a sheet,” Haldir said, with a grimace.

Elrond nodded, “I agree. What about the private garden outside my rooms? The hedges are high and it has benches and a table.”

“That was where I was going to suggest,” Alais agreed. “I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Haldir took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles, “We are yours, my Lady, lead on.”

 

Elrond never imagined even a day ago Midsummer would have him naked in his own garden, with his wrists and ankles securely bound to his garden table and one of the most beautiful and desired Ladies in the city riding his cock. 

An equally well secured Haldir was forced to watch them couple from under the shade of a nearby tree and not join in until Alais gave him permission. His eyes were wild with lust. The ropes crisscrossing his naked body like a spider's web drew Elrond's eyes down to where Alais bound his painfully erect penis and testicles as the focal point of her art. The effect was truly gorgeous and was added fire to Elrond's own urgent thrusting up into the tight heat of his Mistress for the afternoon.

"Haldir!" the Lady commanded. "Come here and let Lord Elrond have a taste of that beautiful organ he's been staring at with such longing."

"Yes, my Lady."

Haldir was more flexible than they imagined and despite the ropes he was able to get onto the bench beside the Elf-lord's head and get his gwib at the angle Elrond required to get it to slide in, at first just the head and a small part of the shaft. The Elf was blessed, or cursed some complained, with an overly large endowment. 

"Oh, how I've missed you, my Lord," Haldir groaned, before he lost the ability to form anything as coherent as words or thoughts, because Elrond was well acquainted with Haldir's curse, and he could take him to the back of his throat when he wanted to.

Alais gasped and clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, good show," she praised Elrond. "I saw the size of him and was sure you'd never even get to the halfway point on such a magnificent erection."

He let the cock slide from his mouth, "I'm full of surprises this year, Mistress."

She giggled. "I guess you are. Is it true, the rumor spreading around, that you and Prince Legolas got caught starting early?"

His mouth was again occupied by impatient Elf cock, but he grunted an affirmative. 

The Lady leaned forward and lips trailed a line of kisses to his jaw and back to his ear, where she whispered, "You are the hero of all of Imladris today for such a bold, decisive conquest, early or not. I want you to know."

Elrond pushed Haldir back so he could speak. "May I speak freely, my Lady?"

"Of course."

"My wearing Mithril today was a humbling by Glorfindel not for the early start, but for another far worse transgression."

Alais frowned, "Whatever could you have done?"

"It was not what I did, but what I allowed to be done..."

Both she and Haldir gasped, then Haldir laughed uproariously. "Caught bending over for the lovely mithril Prince?"

"I didn't imagine it possible, but I think you've made Haldir's organ swell even more with your admission!" Alais exclaimed in amazement. "Does he imagine a window of opportunity through which he too might slip inside the forbidden territory." 

Elrond's eyes met Haldir's and held for a long moment. The younger Elf's cheeks flushed, and his eyes slid away guiltily, confirming her statement.

Alais mused allowed, "How does a stalwart Captain of Lord Celeborn's guard stand when ranked beside a very young Elf-prince?"

Haldir raised an eyebrow at her, but she only sighed, "He's still Thranduil's heir, my darling. So, I don't see how we could allow our Lord to fall even further today. Or he would risk more drastic corrective actions." 

At the other man's crestfallen expression, Alais said, "But we will make our Haldir spill seed so many times he won't have a drop left to offer your arse. That should take some of the sting away. My title of Lady isn't as lofty as Lord Elrond's here in his own city, but I can make a case for taking him myself that few would challenge."

Elrond set to work taking the first of what would be three orgasms they drew from the pretty blonde Elf-captain. Their favorite being when Alais was pounding his arse as Elrond took hers on a blanket spread on the soft grass.

Alais climaxed as many times, but Elrond had only spent two times, he'd pleasured both passages for Alais but only pumped his seed in her pert bottom and then spent once more in Haldir's ass.

The Lady wasn't happy with that, so she placed a thick blanket over the edge of the table and tied Elrond's upper body to it while he remained standing with his feet and knees wide apart, backside raised in offering. 

A glance in Haldir's direction showed the well sated ellon curled on his side on the blanket, sound asleep from post orgasmic lethargy. 

Alais changed the phallus she'd just used on Haldir to the wool stuffed leather and coated it liberally with salve. "We can't have you falling behind in the counts for today, my Lord Elrond." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Do I even need to remind you to relax and breathe deeply, naughty boy?"

Elrond chuckled, "No, Mistress."

"I hope you enjoy this as much as Haldir did, because I think I'm in love with even the idea of taking you in this manner."

All the stretching and preparation from earlier made the initial stroke and all the other deep thrusts she gave him pure pleasure. The nerves were sending pleasure signals so strong Elrond was sure, as his orgasm took him, he blacked out for a short time.

Amused, male laughter and quiet voices drew Lord Elrond back to himself. A face appeared before his, Celeborn looking smug and insufferable as ever. "Are you on a quest to take everyone in Imladris into your body today?"

"Won't take you," Elrond grumbled.

Celeborn's smile widened at that. "Are you sure? Lady Alais had done fine work with this rope, and I don't imagine you could do much to stop me if I wanted to mount you." His point was well illustrated with a stinging slap to Elrond's ass. "I don't know that you should have put so much energy into worrying about Legolas, especially if you were going to wear mithril yourself and wag your arse in the most inappropriate directions."

The two men had known each other literally for Ages, and never once had either shown the slightest inclination toward the other. 

On the eve of his marriage to Celeborn's daughter, the Elf-lord had even threatened to gut Elrond if he made Celebrian unhappy. That was something of a threat on a magnitude one doesn't take lightly, or ever really forget. 

Sex was never on offer and it suited them both just fine.

"If I thought either of us was capable of getting hard again, you would be in serious jeopardy of becoming more than the father of my grandchildren today, mellon."

Elrond shuddered and for the second time in a few hours he wasn't sure if something was a good idea or filled him with terror.

"Glorfindel let you off easy, because he didn't know the widely accepted punishment in Doriath for allowing someone beneath your station to claim you is to be bound, much like this, but in a far more public location. From there, the guilty party is offered to anyone in earshot who wanted to mount him or her. They each were allowed the span of a small hour glass to try and spill their seed in you. If they succeeded, they got a boon from the guilty at the next Midsummer gathering."

By the time Celeborn finished, Elrond's legs were visibly trembling. He licked parched lips and said, "I'm fortunate to have escaped such punishment, then."

"Oh, it wasn't a punishment, not really. It was a way to get a large number of people to pound your arse without looking completely craven." Celeborn laughed, "I would know. I experienced it personally on my second Midsummer."

Elrond was too shocked to speak, and his face made Celeborn smirk. 

"In your case, with your lofty position here, your choices for suitable dominants is stunted by your own success as their leader. The people of Imladris love you, revere you. They would never dream of asking you to lower yourself to their level in that way, and I sympathize, for I am caught in much the same situation in Lothlorien."

His hand stroked Elrond's dark hair. "For the record, Glorfindel told me what you said this morning. If you had asked Gil-galad to bend over, I know for a fact he would have, but only ever for you. You, he had a terrible weakness for."

Something about his statement touched Elrond in a strange way. A way that hurt his heart. "As I have for Legolas," he admitted. 

"The boy will break your heart, mellon," Celeborn patted his shoulder. "And Thranduil will poke a hole or two in you with his sword."

As much as the ropes would let him, Elrond shrugged. 

"Legolas is in love with Aragorn."

"He isn't the only one."

Elrond growled, "Damn you for giving my worst nightmare a voice."

"Oh no, you can't blame me, you forget who my wife is."

"Speak no more of it. Ever."

Celeborn laughed. "What an odd position to be in to be issuing orders. You really aren't getting into wearing mithril at all." He proceeded to issue a dozen stinging slaps to Elrond's buttocks, reddening them nicely. "Do you have any other orders, my Lord? I'm sure there is a belt or something equally painful in your room I could find easily enough if you require a good lashing." 

Elrond responded with a grunt.

"Good to know you've learned one lesson of the many today."

"If I have to watch you fuck him too, while I am forbidden, I swear I will die," Haldir grumbled, yawning and stretching. "It was bad enough to be awoken by the sounds of spanking and see it is my Lords playing without me."

Celeborn glared at Haldir. "The lashing can just as easily go to you, Captain. You know how I feel about impertinence." 

Haldir scrambled to his feet, "I'm sorry, my Lord."

"I'm not so sure you are. And what is all this about you trying to lay a claim on Lord Elrond's body? He wouldn't let you, and if he did, he'd have to take everyone in the city in is ass to make it fair."

Elrond's strangled sound made the two other Eldar look in his direction. The return of his erection was obvious. 

The Captain gave a triumphant laugh. "You see, my Lord. He considers it and finds it appealing."

Celeborn threw up his hands in surrender. "If you let him do this, Elrond, you can't claim you are unaware of the consequences, now that I have laid them out for you."

"I'm not the only one who has his organ stirring, Celeborn," Elrond taunted back.

"After the evening meal, if I hear rumors, I will come looking you. And I will be the first and the last to take you."


	7. Friends and Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aragorn/Legolas I promised you.

“My Lady… my Lady…” A pair of serving girls ran up to Arwen and chattered insistently about some mishap with the preparations for the evening's feast.

Aragorn watched her soothe them, feeling something close to awe at how easily she took charge of the situation. But when she looked at him and smiled apologetically, he knew it meant she was going to have to go to the kitchens and deal with the crisis. 

Some of their precious time was going to be stolen away by broken crockery or missing serving girls. 

“It’s alright, Arwen, really. I know you have responsibilities today. I’ll go find Legolas and made sure he’s not into any trouble without me.”

Arwen’s eyebrows rose. “I’m sure if he isn’t into something, you will remedy that.”

“I’ve been good today.”

“You have, and good behavior is always rewarded… eventually.” 

She left him then, to his own devices, and he really did need to find Legolas.

The courtyard with the shuttered old cottage on the way to the main house was filled with a crowd of revelers, shout and cheering. It took a while to elbow his way to the front, so he could get a view of what was causing all the fuss, but soon as he did, he winced.

The sight before him was one Aragorn had never seen before, even at Midsummer. And he knew this to be the reason for Arwen being called away. 

Two tables were set up side by side and on one was Elladan and the other was one of Haldir’s guards. They were surrounded by naked female Elves, at least half the serving and kitchen staff, by the looks of it. 

Money was changing hands in the crowd, and a hand tugged at his tunic, making him look up and see Elrohir at his side. 

“What is this?” he asked.

“My brother and the guard are having a contest to see who can bring the most fair maids to climax with their mouths and hands and… well, you can see it for yourself.”

There was something in Elrohir’s tone that made Aragorn smile. “Are you vexed you didn’t think of it first?”

“Yes.”

Aragorn patted his shoulder. “You could go start contest with the grooms in the stables. I’m sure there are others of Haldir’s guard feeling competitive today.”

Elrohir blinked at him, and then a smile of pure wickedness spread across his handsome face. “I know just the one, too.” He pressed a kiss to Aragorn’s cheek. “Have I told you I’m glad you’ve finally come of age? Things are more interesting than they have been in decades.”

“No.”

“Well, consider yourself told. What a fantastic idea. I’ll see you later, Man-cousin.” As an afterthought, he added, “If you kiss my sister while I am gone, I will break your arm.”

Aragorn called to his retreating back, “Arwen had to go rescue the feast because the maids are all here getting pleasured.”

He turned and ran into Lord Celeborn. “I’m sorry, my Lord. I didn’t mean to…”

“We should talk, you and I.” 

It was said in a tone that brooked no arguments, so Aragorn followed Celeborn to a bench in the gardens and sat when he was told to.

“You were told of your heritage last year, were you not, young Aragorn?”

Aragorn nodded, and dread filled him. This conversation was going to end badly, he knew. 

Celeborn nodded, “And you understand as the last surviving heir to the line of Elros, you have the right to the throne of Gondor?”

“I don’t want it,” Aragorn stated vehemently, and made Celeborn laugh. 

“Let me tell you a truth the Eldar have held since the First Age, young one. The only King deserving of a crown is the one who doesn’t want it.”

Aragorn winced and Celeborn patted his thigh. “Things have a way of working themselves out if we have the patience to let them.” He continued, “I know you have tender feelings for Arwen. And I believe for first time, her heart is touched as well.”

“Lord Elrond and the twins will never let us…”

“Elrond and his sons cannot be everywhere, and they cannot stop two people from falling in love, no matter how much they disapprove.”

“I’m too young.”

“So is she, but time passes.”

This was the sort of Eldar who could answer his most burning question. “If there is but a drop of Eldar blood in me, how long will I live?”

Celeborn thought about it. “Twice as long as a Man, maybe. Plenty of time for you to finish growing up and prove yourself to Arwen’s kinsmen.”

“I don’t mean disrespect, but it doesn’t sound like you have the same opinion formed.”

The Elf-lord’s silver head tilted slightly to the side as if he were listening to something Aragorn could not hear, then his eyes met Aragorn's. “I find there is a comforting symmetry in the child of Elrond and the many times great grandchild of Elros being drawn to each other. There are others who would not see such a thing as a bad omen, like Glorfindel and Erestor. It is not a great leap to believe blood calls to blood.”

Celeborn patted Aragorn’s shoulder. “Patience, young Dunedain. Cultivate the skills to keep yourself alive and make you worthy of a crown, and know you are welcome anytime in Lothlorien. My Lady is quite anxious to meet the reason her granddaughter has tarried so long in Rivendell.”

Argorn was not so eager to meet Lady Galadriel, and it must have shown on his face, because Celeborn chuckled, “Galadriel wouldn’t break your arm if you kissed Arwen. Nor, would I.”

“I’m going to let her kiss me, then I am blameless.”

“A wise plan. Do let me know how it works out for you.” The Elf-lord stood to go, but Aragorn's hand on his arm stopped him. "Have you seen Legolas?"

"I saw him not long ago. He was in his room... resting." There was something dark and heated in Celeborn's eyes when he said the word 'resting', it made Aragorn shiver. 

"I should go check on him. I've been worried."

"We will speak again before I leave, I'm sure. Enjoy your Midsummer, Aragorn."

"You as well, my Lord."

"I've made a successful start, and the day is young, yet."

 

Legolas was just leaving his room as Aragorn arrived, and the Man grabbed his Princely friend as he passed Aragorn's room and tackled him onto his bed. 

"Ugh. Aragorn..." Legolas huffed, recovering from having the breath knocked out of his lungs. 

Aragorn rolled him onto his belly and pressed his weight down on Legolas. "How many have had you today so far?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"I need to know if you are too worn out to resist me, mellon, or if I need to bind your hands... so I can take my turn with you."

Legolas' eyes went wide. "No more ropes, I beg you." He showed Aragorn the faint red lines around his wrists. "Been there, been done like that."

"Are you saying we can't have sex?"

"Mercy, Aragorn, I've spent three times already and we haven't even made it past Midday..." the Prince groaned. "I would do almost anything for an hour's nap in your soft, warm bed and some food."

"Almost anything?" Aragorn smirked, glancing at the tray of fruit the kind Eldar who ran the kitchens always kept full for him on the table across the room from the bed. Today there as also his favorite sweet, sticky rolls and cubes of cheese. "I have fruit, sweet rolls and cheese. And I have no problem with you napping in my bed as long as I can join you, but it will cost you."

Legolas yawned. "Name your price."

"I want to fuck you."

Under his breath, Legolas grumbled, "You and everyone else." In a louder voice, he said, "Go get me an apple, and I will consider it."

"No."

"If you don't feed me, I'm going to die, and then you can't fuck me ever."

Aragorn got up and went to the bowl to fetch his friend something to eat. He picked an apple and a sweet roll. He handed over the former, and said, "This is pity food. I'm giving in to you because I have a feeling you've had Elf-lords in your arse of most of this day and I bet they didn't feed you anything but cream."

Legolas bit into the apple and moaned. When the apple was finished, he said, "They didn't even feed me cream. Unless you count all the seed they've been gleefully pumping into my ass. I don't count it, because I've lost the count... three... four..."

"You must be sore... I could massage some of Lord Elrond's special herbal salve into your passage." Legolas started to nod, and Aragorn added, "With my gwib."

The Prince's face fell onto the pillow and was covered by the long pale hair.

Aragorn waved the sweet roll near the Prince's face, so he could smell the spicy heaven of it. 

Legolas snatched the roll so fast it vanished like a magician's trick. He growled as he devoured it, licking his fingers when it was done. "Not enough. Not nearly. What else have you got?"

"Cheese, more rolls, soft furry peaches that remind me of the mounds of your..."

"Fine. Have your way with me. I don't think there is anyone in Imladris who doesn't want to take my arse today."

Aragorn grinned, "It is the price you must pay for being so attractive."

"Later. Today. When I can feel my gwib again, I get to have you, too."

The Man nodded, "Deal."

Aragorn made sure the special salve was thick and deep in the abused passage before he even tried to take his best friend's bottom. Legolas ate another roll while Aragorn was tending him and then rolled onto his belly offering his body with complete trust.

Their sighs mingled as the Man eased in as gently as he could manage. He rested his head on Legolas' shoulder, covering him and rocking and circling his hips rather than thrusting. "Am I hurting you?"

The Prince turned his head and kissed Aragorn's stubbly cheek. "No, mellon, you feel good inside me." His words were a drowsy whisper. "You can move more if you want."

"I like it like this. I haven't come even once so far today, thrusting will make me lose it too soon. You won't believe the things I have seen today. Having the guests from Lothlorien here has turn this place into... I can't find a word to properly fit the insanity out there today." 

Legolas tensed. "What's wrong, Aragorn?"

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want to enjoy this."

"Tell me," the Prince commanded. 

Aragorn continued his slow claiming of Legolas' body, savoring it while he told his most trusted friend all about his day. Near the end of the story, when he got to the part about the contest with the serving maids, he spent himself with a sigh of relief and rolled them over so they could spoon in his bed.

"I'm sorry, Aragorn. I should have been around for you today."

Aragorn laughed. "I'm glad you were getting some much needed attention. It must be lonely for you in Mirkwood."

"It can be, at times, but I hold to the pleasant memories as hard as I can and they get me through."

"Do you have orgies in Mirkwood?"

Legolas laughed, startled. "Not any I've been invited to."

"We should take the twins and Haldir and his guards and ride for Mirkwood and start an orgy in the middle of the throne room and make your father watch, but not let him join in."

"As insane and dangerous as that sounds, my gwib just twitched it's approval of the idea."

"A nap and you'll be fine."

Legolas snuggled back against Aragorn. "I'm fine because I'm here and with you."


	8. Of Moths And Flames

“Be welcome in the land of flame, young Prince Moth,” Haldir murmured as soon as Legolas entered Lord Celeborn’s annexed domain at the river’s edge. 

“Haldir…” Lord Celeborn’s reproving voice rumbled from behind a curtain. “Let the Prince satisfy his curiosity in peace.”

Haldir lowered his head and stepped back. “My apologies, Prince. I meant no disrespect.”

Legolas didn’t know what to make of the beautiful Captain of Celeborn’s guard. “If I’ve wings to singe this afternoon, is there a better place?”

Haldir’s smirk returned, “Oh no, there is no better place, your Highness. You will find this space filled with your most devoted of supporters.”

Legolas thought about that, before he asked, “And do you count yourself among their number, Captain Haldir?” 

The other man laughed, “Oh, I think you will come to find I am your most ardent supporter of all.”

Legolas smirked. He’d wanted the other since the moment on the hill top where he’d first laid eyes on him. “Strange that we have not spoken before now, if your devotion is as you claim.” His hand stroked the front of Haldir’s tunic, from trailing from shoulder to belly. A fairly brazen touch between recent acquaintances, even at Midsummer.

The older man’s eyes widened in surprise which quickly turned to heat. “If it is proof you require, Prince.” Haldir captured Legolas’ hand and brought it to the center of his body so Legolas could feel the erection there. “Does this give satisfactory answer to your question?”

“I don’t know,” the wood-elf mused, coyly. “You would have to tell me if I could be satisfied by such a thing.”

Someone coughed to cover a laugh, and Legolas was almost certain it was Lord Celeborn. Elves have excellent hearing and he had the most interest in who Legolas was seducing or being seduced by today, it seemed. 

Haldir backed Legolas against the nearest column and pressed his lips to the Prince’s ear. “Would that I was given leave to try, Prince Moth. You’d find more than you wings singed under me.”

Legolas’ body responded with a shudder, and then Haldir was kissing him. He hummed appreciatively as he kissed back. His hands went up to grip Haldir’s upper arms, and Haldir’s came around him, snaking between his back and the stone of the pillar and drew him into a crushing embrace.

Their kisses were a study in strike and counter-strike as neither could overpower the other and gain control of the pace completely. Somewhere in the heated exchange Legolas was stripped of his tunic and bow callused hands found their way down the back of his breaches to knead his ass and rock his groin against Haldir’s. 

When Legolas tried to get his hand under Haldir’s tunic, the other man nipped his lower lip, pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it. It slipped from between his lips with a pop, and Haldir let the Prince go long enough to pull his own shirt off and toss it aside. 

“Ooh,” Elrohir gasped. “The two most beautiful ellon in Rivendell today are going to go at each other in full view, so we can appreciate it.”

Elladan whistled, “It’s going to be a good show, too. I saw teeth for a moment there. And they are both too played out from the morning to satisfy easily.”

Their father stepped in through the curtains behind them and froze at the sight of Haldir and Legolas flushed and half naked. His expression was a fast flash of many emotions. 

“Now, you’ve done it,” Elrohir chuckled, “You’ve made Father jealous.”

“And turned on.”

Elrond narrowed his eyes at the twins, “Don’t you have more servants to distract from their duties?”

“Nope,” Elladan grinned. “We’ve bedded them all and sent them back to the kitchens to finish the evening meal just in the nick of time.”

“I have something they can do,” Celeborn said, emerging from behind the first curtain. He held the fabric back and inside a beautiful female Elf was bound on her side hanging halfway from the ceiling, clad in nothing but her ivory skin and deep blue silk rope. The smell of feminine arousal and the glistening folds in the valley between her thighs showed her state to be quite excited. “My young friend here is a more appropriate place for your wagging tongues.”

The twins looked at each other and huge grins spread across the face they shared. “It’s our duty,” Elrohir said, nodding.

“That it is also a pleasure is just a bonus, of course,” Elladan added.

They disappeared behind the curtain and Lord Celeborn got his first look at Legolas and Haldir in their current state. “Would that I had an artist who could sketch this particular moment onto paper. I would send it by my fastest rider to Mirkwood as a Midsummer gift for King Thranduil.”

Legolas dropped his forehead onto Haldir’s shoulder as he laughed, a little embarrassed. “And you thought my father hated Haldir before…” He lifted his head and looked into the other man’s eyes. “He would send out an assassin to bring back your head.”

“He could try,” Haldir huffed. “You will have to give me something tonight to make such a sacrifice worth it.” Haldir kissed him, not caring about the dual Elf-lord audience. “Would you make my demise worth such risk?”

“Oh, I don’t have any doubt Legolas can, and will, but the two of you are making a show of it and causing a crowd to gather here,” Lord Celeborn scolded. “I’d be happy to tie the Prince to the pillar on the far side where you are not blocking the entrance and then you can return to whatever it was you were going to do on the floor here.”

Elrond laughed at their expressions. “I’d say that sounds like an ideal solution, unless you would prefer the empty couch in the third tier.”

“I would like both Lord Elrond and Haldir tied to the pillar,” Legolas wished, a little too loudly. 

All eyes in the pavilion turned to him, and he blushed. “If you are taking such requests, My Lord. Please.”

Lord Elrond threw back his head, and laughed, “You’ve been after my gwib all day.”

“Since last summer,” Legolas admitted. “I refuse to be denied any longer. I will have you if it takes until the morrow to get my thirst quenched with a mouthful of your essence.”

Lord Celeborn smiled, clearly loving the idea a little too much. “I’ve enough rope for both. But such a request is not without a price, Prince. I want to bind you, again, after the evening meal. Will you agree to let me turn you into living art as your grandfather did?”

The Prince looked at Haldir and Elrond, and then back at Celeborn, and nodded. 

 

Elrond could hear the slurping and moaning coming from the other side of the pillar, but he was frustrated not being able to see them. The idea of an artist sketching the couples had never occurred to him, but he would add that to his list for next year. 

He’d waved his right to be pleasured by the Prince first so he and Legolas could take their time, but now he was tied and left alone, and regretting it more by the second as he was forced to listen to the younger Eldar getting pleasured all around him.

Celeborn came around to his side and held up a wide strip of black silk for Elrond’s inspection. “We have to give you something to do until Legolas drains Haldir dry. So, I thought I would give you this and have some of your residents get you ready for him. They are rather eager to show their appreciation for your leadership.”

“I don’t think you will get many takers.”

Celeborn smirked. “You underestimate yourself, and your appeal, three people are in line already… Legolas will need to work quickly or he won’t get to taste your ejaculate yet again.” 

Legolas heard what Celeborn said and even with his mouth full he made his displeasure known rather loudly.

“I would hurry, if I were you, Prince. If you put a finger in his arse, Haldir loses control more quickly.”

Celeborn tied the warm cloth over his eyes, careful not to tug his hair when he made the knot. “Are you comfortable? The ropes aren’t too restrictive?”

“Aren’t they meant to be?”

“The rope is only to keep you immobile and unable to use your arms. You should still be able to breathe normally and they shouldn’t pinch anywhere… important.”

The rope made diamond shapes around his nipples and around his groin, but two of the ropes ran high up between his thighs and gently spread them so his buttocks were parted before they continued on down to his legs. 

“I’m fine.” And he was, but it was strange to be blindfolded and naked in a place where people were encouraged to catch glimpses or watch outright. 

Celeborn patted his shoulder, “Good. I’m going to go and draw the curtain a little more, then I will send someone in.”

The first thing he noticed was the rustling of fabric and then a warm, fleeting kiss to his half erect member. It didn’t take long for the person to move beyond light, butterfly wing kisses and start licking and then sucking. 

He knew when the next person started because the lips were cooler. It was a woman from the happy sounds she was making as she deeply took his flesh and teased him with the tip of her tongue. One of her fingertips brazenly stroked circles around and over his anus as she worked. 

“If you spend for me, I will give half to Legolas, my Lord. You have my word.”

Elrond’s mouth fell open, his breath coming in little pants. His brain supplied the face that went with the voice and it was one of the last females in Imladris he would have expected. She was someone he thought of as a dear friend and never a prospective lover, as she was married and happy. “I had no idea…”

“You overlook the obvious, my Lord and dear, dear friend. The Mirkwood Prince’s two years of longing to taste your seed are nothing to my hundreds.”

“Why didn’t you ask? Have I become so unapproachable?”

“Not on most subjects, no. But when it comes to Midsummer, you favor the young ones.”

“You’re married,” he offered in his defense.

“My husband is next in line, my Lord. And I fully intend to leave him nothing to taste but what is on my tongue.”

A sigh escaped from him, and it didn’t take much more from the Lady’s gifted tongue to make him fill her mouth with cream.

The next mouth was quick to find him and sucked hard to get any remaining drops of semen from his gwib. There must have been some, because he hummed.

“Mellon, why did you and your wife not simply approach me?”

“As she said, you favor the young ones, and rightly so. They need your attentions at Midsummer more than we. Still, it is nice to be able to make a small offering of pleasure to you for all you have done for us as our leader and our Lord.”

Elrond was humbled. “Thank you, mellon.”

“Thank you, my Lord. My wife and I will speak more with you when you are not so… tied up.”

Another mouth claimed him and this one was not content with his flaccid organ, the tongue lathed his scrotum and his anus mercilessly until he was aroused to half hardness and on his way to another orgasm. 

 

“Mine, now,” Legolas demanded, petulantly. 

Celeborn released Elrond’s penis, sat back on his heels and glared up at the Prince. His finger went to his lips, indicating he wanted Legolas’ silence. He gracefully stood and exchanged places with Legolas on his knees before Haldir whom he had gagged before he started on Elrond, so he wouldn’t give away his secret. This section of the Pavillion was emptied and closed off to everyone else save the four of them at his orders. 

It would never do for Elrond to know just how much Celeborn was enjoying the shift in their relationship from father-in-law and son-in-law to something more like a true friendship. He’d come to love Elrond, he and Galadriel both had. There was nothing about him that wasn’t to love, he was everything a father could hope for in a husband for his daughter and a father to his grandchildren. Celebrian made the best possible choice for herself and their family.

When Celebrian was ripped from their lives, everyone had leaned on him while he leaned on nobody but himself, a lone granite pillar of strength. That their relationship hadn’t run deep enough for the battle hardened warrior Lord to seek comfort from him was a failure entirely on his head. 

Celeborn regretted it more than he could ever say.

Life had never presented him with a way to make amends for his shortfalls. Elrond was stubbornly solitary and stoic. When he brought up subjects other than the business of running a city or his grandchildren, Elrond wouldn’t open up any more now than he did in the first years after Celebrian sailed. 

He wanted to breach the wall Elrond held between them but for the love of the Valar he didn’t know how to do it. 

The ellon before him now was another matter entirely. Haldir was too familiar, too willing to give Celeborn anything his Lord asked for. He melted at the most basic attentions. He gave more freely of his body than he should have, and it made Celeborn greedy and guilty in turns. 

The Elf-lord pleasured Haldir as passionately as he had Elrond, an offering of thanks for his service and his devotion. Nipping and pinching his nipple, kissing and biting where neck met shoulder in the way that the younger elf loved. He sucked the testicles and tongued his ass until Haldir howled and erupted in hot spurts on Celeborn’s tongue. He rose to his feet, removed the gag and kissed him, sharing his gift back with him. 

Haldir was looking at him, and something in his eyes made Celeborn’s throat close up with emotion. He kissed him again because he had to. In his ear, he whispered, “When we get home, faithful Haldir, we will talk.”


	9. Chapter 9

The dinner feast served for Midsummer was truly a sight to behold, and if Legolas was honest, he couldn’t see such a bounty ever being offered by his father. The parties and feasts were pretty good in Mirkwood, but none equaled Lord Elrond’s gift for arranging grand events. 

Someone gave him a playful bump when he took too long to select items for his plate from the abundantly enticing treats. He looked up, ready to glare at the offender, and found it was only Aragorn. The annoyance melted immediately, replaced by a grin. “And it must be time to eat, again, because Aragorn has suddenly reappeared.”

“I’m famished, and you’re between me and the food, again.”

Legolas wrapped his arms around the Man and kissed him, at the same time, he turned them in a circle, so Aragorn emerged on the other side of him. “Now, you can lead.”

Aragorn’s smile turned wicked, “Wouldn’t be the first time today, would it?”

“No,” Legolas admitted. “But you mustn’t boast too loudly. I’ve already been caught once this Midsummer behaving in a very un-Princely manner. Who can say what a second offense would get me?”

Haldir happened to be behind them, and he said, “Would you like to find out? I could arrange it.”

The Elf and the Man looked at the blonde Captain with matching wide eyed expressions and an emphatic set of responses to the negative. Haldir laughed. “Fear not. I can keep a secret.”

Legolas raised his eyebrows, “Prove that you can, and I will reward your silence after dark.”

The two companions ate in comfortable silence, and then Aragorn quickly excused himself when he saw Arwen watching them from her balcony. 

If he were honest with himself, Legolas was relieved to see him go. Their sex earlier had left him a bit sore and he was contemplating asking Lord Elrond for healing before his amorous Midsummer adventures continued into the night. 

Asking for healing meant he would have to explain how he came to be sore, and more damningly, who he had been with to get into such a condition. Legolas didn’t know why he felt like he shouldn’t mention his encounters with the combined sexual devastation that was Celeborn and Glorfindel, or even Aragorn, but Elrond must have known he’d been with partners other than him. 

The Elf-lord practically handed Aragorn over on a silver serving platter last Midsummer. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, Lord Elrond sat in the chair vacated by Aragorn and stared down at his plate for a long moment before speaking, “From your frown, should I infer you’ve been abandoned this year by young Aragorn, in favor of my beautiful daughter.”

“We were together this afternoon and then we managed a nap. He’s not taking Arwen’s returning to Lothlorien well.”

Elrond’s eyes widened. “Arwen told him? Today?”

“Yes. And he thinks her leaving is his fault, like his presence here is chasing her away from her rightful place with her family.”

The Elf-lord sighed and rolled his eyes. “He isn’t thinking of striking out on his own, is he?”

“I managed to convince him it was still too dangerous for him to go anywhere else,” Legolas assured him. “Especially on his own.”

The tension drained from Lord Elrond’s shoulders and back. “That boy is still far too impulsive, he boarders on reckless.” Elrond patted his shoulder. “I owe you for talking him out of running away.”

Legolas saw his potential opening and took it. “I have a way you could repay me.” He lowered his eyes and looked up at Elf-lord under his lashes. “You have a gift for healing sore places and I’ve a need for such a gift.”

Elrond winced, laughing. “I imagine you do. I hear you had to contend with not only Aragorn and Lord Celeborn, but an annoyed Glorfindel, as well.”

Legolas blushed. “If you told me yesterday I would be so popular today, I would have worried you had gone insane.”

“Perhaps this would be a bad time to mention Haldir is watching you…” Lord Elrond teased him. 

Legolas dropped his forehead onto the table. “After Aragorn, I can’t… not without someone healing me.”

“Are you saying you let the pup have at you?” Elrond had been mirthful before and now he was grinning and chuckling. 

It was a loaded question after the Prince’s earlier lesson from the silver haired Elf-lord. “I’m not saying anything,” Legolas grumbled.

“Good. That sort of behavior is spreading rapidly around the city today, and I’d hate for you to end up earning a fate similar to mine tonight.”

Legolas hadn’t heard anything. “What did I miss?”

“While you were napping, I was being tied to a table in my garden by Lady Alais and Haldir.”

The Prince inhaled sharply. “No.”

“Oh yes, and unbeknownst to us, we had Lord Celeborn as an audience. He took exception to my allowing Haldir to take me while I was in such a subordinate position.”

Legolas whistled, “Oh, I bet he did.”

“Lord Celeborn has vowed to teach me a lesson tonight in the Pavillion.”

The younger Eldar shuddered.

“Careful he doesn’t find out about Aragorn and make an example of you, too.”

“Was Haldir worth the punishment?” Legolas asked in an awestruck whisper.

“Of course, I was.” Haldir said, arrogantly. “If you doubt my word, we could slip away to someplace private and I would be happy to demonstrate my various skills.”

Legolas curse the sensitivity of Eldar hearing, again, and frowned at Haldir’s second unexpected appearance in a short span of time. “Are you stalking me?”

The Captain threw back his head and laughed. “I could be. Or maybe I am simply following orders to keep a close eye on you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like looking at you, perhaps?”

Legolas narrowed his eyes. “Who told you to watch me?”

“Lord Celeborn, of course.” Haldir took the empty seat on Legolas’ other side and stole a grape from the Prince’s plate. “He is wondering if you require healing.”

“If he requires healing, Haldir, I will see to it.”

“My Lord feels… responsible, for your discomfort. At least, some part.” Haldir leaned into Legolas, “Nobody would see you too sore to have any more fun tonight. Least of all me.”

“Such things are not allowed.”

“They happen in any case, unless I was misunderstanding the conversation between you and the very young Man earlier.”

Lord Elrond made a low rumble in his throat, very much like the warning growl of a predator. “Haldir. Blackmail is unbecoming an Eldar.”

“And completely unnecessary,” Legolas added, puzzled by his escalating tactics. “I want you. You know this. If you want to take me, all you have to do is ask.”

“We’ll be tied up and flogged in front of a crowd.”

Legolas scowled. “I don’t understand why. Who does it harm if we are both eager for it? I come to Imladris to escape being told whom I can and can’t share my body with. If I wanted punishments for myself and my lovers, I can earn them in Mirkwood more easily than here. The only improvement is knowing my lovers in Rivendell won’t be sent off to their deaths in the forest because my father doesn’t want me to become attached to anyone. Or worse, love someone he deems unacceptable, which is every wood-elf in our Kingdom, Silvan or not.” 

He hadn’t intended it, but the guilt wracked, desperately lonely Prince’s emotions got away from him, by the time he stopped for need of a breath, every eye at the feast was on him and he realized he had been shouting. 

The other guests gaped at him with looks of shock, outrage, horror and worst of all… pity.

There was no taking back what he’d admitted, now. “If Lord Elrond earned punishment for allowing Haldir to have sex with him, I’ve surly earned a worse punishment for allowing a Man to use me. I enjoyed my time with Aragorn because he is eager and curious and unguarded. I love that about him, and I plan to allow him to take me again if he asks.” He looked down at Lord Elrond, “I love him, Valar save me.”

Head high, Legolas stated, “So if you insist on punishing Lord Elrond, then add me to your list.” He met the eyes of Glorfindel and Lord Celeborn and lowered his head in respect. “I accept the judgment of the higher ranking Eldar, but know that your rules and punishments won’t alter my behavior. Perhaps, you should hold off until after Haldir takes me, too, so I can add his seed to the Elf-Lords and Balrog-slayers and Dunedain Princes who have already filled me today. Then, maybe I’ll try cooks or horse soldiers, and I’ve always wondered about blacksmiths. Their bodies must have tremendous strength and endurance to be capable of forging such magnificent blades.”

Legolas met the hard eyes of Lord Celeborn, unflinching. “I’m sorry, Lord Celeborn, but care nothing for titles today.”

Lord Celeborn laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You truly are Oropher’s grandson.”

“The circlet is too heavy today, my Lord, forgive me if I dispose of it.” He’d put it on before dinner, because the feast was more formal than most things on Midsummer, and now Legolas pulled the silver chevron off and tossed it into the center of the table. “Prince Legolas has left Rivendell and won’t return until tomorrow. I’m no one of any consequence, but if you ask nicely, I’ll probably let you fuck me.”

The young Eldar looked at the other guests and addressed them directly, “If you think to judge me for appearing completely craven, know I’ve suffered with a tremendous hunger which has gone unsatisfied for an entire year.”

Legolas turned and looked at Lord Elrond, “And I’m not the only one. Am I?”

“You are welcome here this evening, beautiful ellon who is not Prince Legolas,” Lord Elrond said, beaming with pride. “And no, you are not alone in your isolation. I understand it well.” 

Lord Celeborn turned to the guests, “It isn’t just sexual starvation one suffers when they are restricted from experiencing love as it comes naturally. Eldar are sensual creatures who need touch as they need food and water and air to breathe. A hug or kiss or caress is like the offering of a droplet of rain in a parched desert.” 

Haldir surprised Legolas by pulling him into a hug and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Before he knew it, dozens of people were hugging him. A few kissed him, and those he’d known as lovers touched him more boldly. 

Elladan groped him and earned a reproving glare from his sire and grandfather. 

A beautiful black haired ellon, with eyes the color of amber, grinned as he approached him. He made as if to simply hug Legolas, but instead of releasing him after the hug, he used the embrace to lift Legolas’ feet a meter off the ground, effortlessly. 

The not-Prince looked down at him, eyes wide, and the ellon laughed. “You wanted to know the strength of a blacksmith, ellon. I’ve half a mind to show you just how much endurance I have this night.” 

Legolas was released and he couldn’t hide the way he shivered before regaining his composure. He asked the blacksmith, “You don’t think I’m mad for wanting to know?”

The Eldar shook his dark head, making his many braids swing as he laughed, “You would not be the first to want a demonstration, and I don’t discriminate between noble or humble birth in my bed.” 

The next ellon in line was blonde and Legolas knew him to be one of Rivendell’s archers. The archer threw a quick, shy glance at Lord Celeborn. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be fucked by one of the very oldest of the Eldar. Would sex be better because they have centuries more practice than we who were born in this Age?”

Legolas hugged him, and kissed him, too, for his honesty. In his ear, Legolas whispered, “I’ve found the answer is yes.”

The archer‘s eyes grew huge, and Legolas noticed Lord Celeborn watching the young ellon as he walked way, like he was committing him to memory for later. 

Not a single Eldar at the feast condemned Legolas for wanting, needing, to be touched. If anything, their compassionate response to his situation was a bit overwhelming for him. 

If a hug was a drop of rain, the not-Prince was caught in a sudden downpour. 

Lord Elrond called for the people to return to their meals, so the night’s activities wouldn’t get off schedule and he dragged Legolas up to his room for a quick healing. 

 

Celeborn smiled to himself and shook his head in disbelief. This Midsummer was shaping up to be something he would never forget. He hoped the others around him felt as he did. 

He returned to the Pavilion intent on cleaning up and preparing the items he would need, but the Elf-lord found the ropes all perfectly coiled and everything already meticulously cleaned and arranged for their evening’s play. 

Lady Alais was sitting on a settee in the first tier of the Pavilion near the entrance. She had a stick of charcoal in her hand and a stack of smooth paper across her knees. He circled around behind her to get a look at the drawing. 

Her sketch was of Lord Elrond, naked and bound to the granite pillar with Prince Legolas on his knees before him. The look on Elrond’s face as orgasm took him was captured perfectly. She’d managed to capture the grace and lithe strength in Legolas’ body, too, as he knelt and drank Elrond’s rapture down.

“You have a gift with charcoal, Alais.”

She smiled over he shoulder at him. “Thank you, my Lord. I can’t seem to get this image out of my mind’s eye. I thought if I committed it to paper, perhaps it would help exorcise it.”

“I’ve been struggling with it myself. They were beautiful together.” He gestured to the coils or rope and tables of clean phalluses and other objects. “Was it you who coiled the ropes and cleaned the instruments of pleasure?”

“The watchers and participants wanted to clean up before you returned, I merely showed them how to do it properly.” 

Celeborn leaned down and pressed a kiss to her brow. “I’ve missed you, sweet Alais. You were always my most impressive acolyte.” 

“I’ve missed you as well, my Lord. Will you tell my Lady how grateful I am for her gift?”

“The satchel was yours. And I will arrange for a cart to be filled with your belongings as soon as I return to Caras Galadhon. Your rightful property will be brought to your home here. I’ve been remiss about it for too long, and I’m sorry. We had hoped you would return to us.”

Alais set her sketches aside and stood, stretching her back muscles. “I’ve heard Lady Arwen is traveling with you. It got me to thinking, and I might like to keep her company for the trip. I could sort my belongings myself and give away the things I have no need for here.”

“How long would you stay?” He tried not to sound too eager.

“As long as you and her Ladyship want me as a guest. I don't know.”

Celeborn smiled, sadly. “We never wanted you to make another home apart from us.”

“It was too painful. I needed distance from my old life.”

"We knew. Galadriel and I care for you and miss you, though. You can't know how happy it will make her to see you, even if you only stay a day or a month."

"Then, I must make the journey, of course," Alais said, nodding.

Celeborn hugged her.


	10. Chapter 10

Arwen met Aragorn on the stairs and took his hand in hers without a word. She led him into her bedroom and he glanced nervously back at the open door. 

He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry. My father just left the feast with Legolas. He and my brothers are going to be occupied for most of the night down by the river. Let’s make the most of their distraction while we can.”

Arwen took a seat on the bench at the wide window and patted the cushion beside her. “Come and sit. Tell me what you will do when I’m gone.”

Aragorn made a face. “Fade and die.”

The Elf-lord’s daughter glared at him. “No, you won’t. And neither will I, although it will be as hard for me as it is for you. Let me tell you what I will be doing. I will be finishing my education, and then my grandmother is going to try to find a match for me among the noble ellon in Lothlorien.”

Aragorn’s face fell, and he wanted to cry. Of course her family would want her to fall in love with another Eldar, one with a suitable title. Falling in love with a Man was out of the question.

Arwen wasn’t finished, though. “She’s going to fail. And I will tell you why. I feel alive when I’m with you. I’ve never felt this before, this aching in my heart I can feel reaching into my soul, and I can’t imagine feeling it with anyone else.”

The Man gaped at her. “It’s not right. You should love an Elf. I’m… nobody.”

“You are the last surviving heir to the line of my uncle and the Kings of Gondor. That isn't nobody. Would my father have changed your name and hidden you here if you were of no import? He treats you as a son, not a foster. No, Aragorn, you are maira, a precious treasure.” 

“Maybe, someday…”

Arwen interrupted him, “Definitely, someday. And when we meet again, circumstances will have changed, but what we feel for each other will be set in stone. And we will love as equals.” She caressed his stubbly cheek. “You must promise to do some things for me.”

“Anything.”

“You are still very young and inexperienced; Today is only your second Midsummer festival, after all. You know little of pleasures on offer, yet. I want you to share yourself with those who catch your eye, those who have need of you, and those who can teach you. Practice those most intimate skills until you are considered a master in them. And most importantly, I want you to..." She hesitated and Aragorn could see the struggle in her eyes, "Have intimate relations with the women of your kind when you visit the cities of Men.”

“No… Arwen… I can’t. Why would you want me to something like that? I don't want anyone but you.”

“You are a mortal Man, and I don’t know if you can make a true choice to give yourself to an Eldar in heart and body unless you know what your own women taste like, what their bodies feel like. Learn their rules for mating and courtship. A King of Gondor will need a wife and heirs.”

Aragorn felt as if she'd just hit him over the head with a hammer. 

Arwen pressed her forehead to his. "While I'm in Caras Galadhon, I'm going to do some research in the archives, in secret, to find out what is required for an Eldar female to give a Man an heir. I may have to ask Mithrandir, if I can't find anything useful, but I certainly can't ask any of my family."

“They’ll kill me.”

“Or they might just break your arm,” Arwen teased. “Yes, I was told my brother threatened to break your arm if you kissed me. So, I will kiss you instead and you are blameless.” She did kiss him, then, soft brushes of her cool lips over his. 

“Arwen,” he groaned, shifting on the bench because his cock was swelling in the restrictive confines of his pants.

“What’s wrong?” She asked coyly. 

“I… this isn’t a good idea. I’m getting too… excited.” It was the honest truth, Arwen’s kisses had his body throbbing. 

The dark haired Elf raised her eyebrows, “Are you? Are your trousers uncomfortably tight from a few kisses?” Then she said the last thing Aragorn ever expected, “Show me.”

“No!” He yelped and stumbled off the bench. 

Arwen stood as well and slipped her dress off over her head, standing completely bared before him, save for a small amount of dark hair at the junction of her thighs. 

“Arwen!? Have you gone mad? The door is open!”

“So, close it,” Arwen suggested. 

Aragorn closed the door out of sense of self preservation. He turned around to find her on the bed, back rested against the padded headboard and her knees bent up and thighs spread wide. 

His mouth fell open at the sight of her. 

“Come here,” Arwen ordered. 

“Uh… um…”

“Aragorn, I said come here.” 

Her command dragged him forward, at least as far as the edge of her bed. “Good. Now, take off your clothes for me. I want to see you.”

“What if you don’t like what you see?” he asked, uncertainly.

Arwen smiled, patiently. “Legolas likes what he sees, doesn’t he? You can show him, and not me?” she pouted. 

“I’m going to get both my arms broken and maybe my legs, too.”

“I have a reward for you if you undress...”

Aragorn disrobed, but he grumbled the entire time, his mind was filled with all the possible ways this could go horribly wrong and get him hurt or killed by her angry kinfolk. 

“Stop worrying. We aren’t having sex, just getting to know each other better. I’ve spent an entire year wondering what you look like under all the layers of cloth. So, let me look at you. I’m not leaving Rivendell until my curiosity is… satisfied.”

The young Man stood before her, feeling nervous and exposed as her eyes drank him in. “You’ve more muscle than an Eldar in your shoulders and chest, but are you stronger when swinging your sword?”

He shook his head, “No. I’m an even match for most, except Glorfindel and your Father.”

“Even with my brothers?”

Aragorn made a face, “There is a noticeable difference in endurance. My arms ache like fire for hours after I’ve sparred with them, but they don’t seem bothered by me.”

“I’m sure all it will take is time.”

“Easy for an Elf to say, when all the Eldar have is time.”

“Would you like to get a better look at me?” 

Aragorn thought she was never going to ask. “Yes, please.”

“You are so sweet. Come up on the bed with me, and you may look… and touch.”

Her touches mirrored his, and they explored every part of each other from toes to ears. The more intimate parts got longer explorations. 

Aragorn loved her breasts and the silky flat plain of her belly. He found if he dipped his tongue into her navel she gave a high pitched keen and fell into fits of giggles, she was very ticklish. 

Arwen’s sounds grew lower when he touched the hidden folds of her sex with the tips of his calloused fingers. The scent of her arousal was stronger, now, and her petal soft lips were damp with her growing excitement. 

“Aragorn, I want you to use your tongue, now. Would you like that?”

She didn’t have to make the request twice, as he’d been dying to taste her for what seemed like hours. “Yes, my Lady, thank you.”

Her thighs spread wider to give him better access and she made the most beautiful sounds as he pleasured her. His finger entered her secret place as Legolas had showed him and he touched the special spot that would give her the most intense pleasure. 

Arwen moaned, “I see you’ve already learned a trick or two.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“I have learned a few tricks of my own.” She pulled away from his hand and proceeded to push him down onto his back. She reversed her own position so her sex was hovering over Aragorn’s face, teasing him until he just had to pull her down to his lips to get more of her. 

Aragorn groaned as she took his swollen cock into her mouth and started to suck it and tease it with her tongue. It felt unbearably good, but Aragorn didn’t want to ejaculate before the Lady reached her pleasure, so he slipped two fingers into her, stroking in time to the flicks and swirls of his tongue. 

As her body grew tense, he used his tongue to drive her higher. His tongue was inside her tight passage as she climaxed for him. 

After a moment or two of rest, Arwen turned herself around, “I want to see your face as you spend your seed in my mouth,” she confessed. Her small hands gripped him, pumping the veined shaft while her lips closed over only the bulbous head.

There wasn’t long to wait, she’d driven him to the brink more than once already and backed him down, only to build him up again to the edge of an earth shattering orgasm. Aragorn couldn’t hold it back any longer, and he saw explosions of color behind his eyelids as he ejaculated for her. 

Arwen lapped at his softened organ the way a cat licks a dish of cream, collecting any drops she’d missed. 

“Arwen…” he sighed.

She straddled him and put her finger to his lips. “Hush. This is all we get. But I can’t imagine parting for what may be a long time without you holding me for one night, so please say you’ll stay.”

Aragorn wrapped her in his arms and held her. “I’ll do anything you ask me to,” he whispered into her dark hair. 

_+_+_+_+_+_

Legolas had hoped he didn’t look as nervous as he felt, but Lord Elrond took one look at him and his lips quirked up at the corners. “There is still time to forget all about this and just stay here.” Here being in Lord Elrond’s gloriously comfortable bed.

“No. We must face our punishments.”

“You were right, you know. The whole idea of enforcing who gets to top the other is archaic and a bit ridiculous. You’ve been inside me before, just last year I sat on your cock. It isn’t anyone’s business but ours.”

Legolas nodded. “I want to know what he’s going to do to us.”

Lord Elrond laughed. “So do I.”

“Do you imagine it will hurt?”

The Elf-lord brows drew down. “I imagine Celeborn is going to give us a way to redeem ourselves in the eyes of the guests, while giving him a chance to do what he has been dying to do all day… fuck us both.”

Legolas blinked at the older man. “I’m shocked at your language!” he teased. “And I’m more shocked you think this is all a cover for Celeborn’s plotting to get us naked and…”

“You, I can understand, maira, but why is he so determined to get me under him? It’s never been a part of our dealings.”

“Maybe he’s decided it should be?”

“Obviously. I just can’t fathom why. I’m not the young, royal, breathtaking prize you are.”

Legolas rolled his eyes, “You say the most pretty things, my Lord. I swoon from your compliments.” He batted his eyelashes at the other Eldar.

“If you can’t handle my poetic waxing, go out there and try to find another Elf-lord who won’t shower you with compliments. I wish you all the luck with it, too. I can’t imagine what Galadriel would have to say if Celeborn brought you home with him.”

They both laughed. 

“What is she like? I’ve only ever heard rumors.”

“There are no words that do Galadriel justice. You must experience her for yourself. Then, you can write me a letter and tell me what you think of her.”

Legolas covered a yawn with his hand. “This day is getting to me. I may sleep for a week.”

“I agree. We have time.” Elrond kissed his cheek. “Close your eyes.”

“Turn over so I know you aren’t going to just stare at me while I sleep.”

Elrond laughed, “I happen to enjoy this view best in all of Imladris.”

“Having Haldir stalking me is bad enough…” Legolas grumbled. “Not you, too.”

The Elf-lord smirked at him, smug. “I don’t need to stalk you. You come to me.”

“And in you.”


	11. Guilt and Innocence

Legolas knelt, stripped to his skin, in the center of the Pavilion with Lord Elrond and Haldir beside him as Lord Celeborn consulted with Glorfindel and a few other Eldar regarding their punishments. 

For now, the number of curious eyes was limited to those who wore mithril and were within the drapes at the center of the circular domed space.

The rebellious Mirkwood Prince noted Lady Alais curled up on a bench across from where they knelt. She sketched them in silence. 

The next time her eyes came up from her paper, he winked at her. Alais smirked happily back at him, and he hoped she would have a more active part to play in his correction, because he liked her very much. 

A glance at Haldir showed him to be as nervous as Legolas himself. He fidgeted and studied the space around them impatiently, as if noting all potential threats and possible escape routes. 

Beyond him, Lord Elrond looked completely calm, like a General meditating to center himself before a great battle. A partial erection betrayed the direction of his thoughts, though.

For himself, Legolas was vacillating between anticipation and trepidation, the earlier punishments fresh in his mind, stirring his body. The Prince had a hard time believing he had not yet been completely satisfied. 

Haldir’s sigh made his erection twitch. 

“How can I be making you hard at a time like this? We’re going to get flogged in a minute,” Haldir hissed at him through barely open lips. 

Legolas aimed a glare at him. “If you stop being attractive, I’ll stop getting erect.”

Lady Alais giggled, but didn’t look up from her scribbling. 

“What is taking them so long?” Haldir grumbled. “And how can anyone possibly meditate while naked and kneeling on a stone floor?” He aimed that comment over his shoulder at Elrond. 

Lord Elrond’s lips twitched, indicating he was listening, but he didn’t move or give a response. 

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but Lord Celeborn glanced over his shoulder at him and the look was enough to make him bite his tongue and hold the comment he’d planned to make. 

 

Celeborn found himself echoing Haldir’s impatience. He wanted to strip his clothes off and throw himself into the middle of them, putting his tongue and fingers and penis into whatever holes were most easily accessible. 

The Elf-lord loved the way he could communicate his warning to the submissive Prince with a simple quelling look. 

King Thranduil’s son was absolute perfection. 

“Are we agreed, then?” Celeborn asked Glorfindel. 

The Balrog-slayer nodded, smiling and looking much too pleased with himself. “We are.”

Lord Celeborn turned to the impatient Eldar awaiting his decision. “Lord Elrond was warned his submission to Haldir would have consequences. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

The kneeling Elf-lord opened his eyes. “I did hear something to that effect, yes. I wore mithril of my own free will, and then ignored the warning, this is true. I made my choice.” He lowered his head, “As the resident ingolemo on nasque in Rivendell today, I submit myself to your correction.”

It was a far more eloquent response than necessary, and at the same time it was almost mocking. 

Celeborn covered the distance between them in two long strides. “Stand.” 

When they were face to face, Lord Elrond’s expression was impassive. He didn’t display the same level of agitation and nervousness as the youngsters, but Celeborn was certain he could chip away those layers of composure tonight, and he would enjoy doing it, if only to see what lay behind them. 

“Lady Alais has asked to be allowed the privilege of flogging you.” 

Celeborn looked down at Legolas and Haldir. “All of you,” he added, for their benefit. “She is quite skilled with a flogger.”

Elrond’s eyes sought confirmation in the Lady’s serene expression before returning to the Lord before him. The hint of a smile ghosted at the corners of his lips. 

Celeborn was pleased with his reaction. “When Alais is satisfied with the color of your skin, Legolas and Haldir will prepare you for the rest of your punishment.”

 

 

Legolas winced inside each time the leather struck Elrond’s body. He didn’t look away, though he wanted to. When his own time came, he was determined to be as silent and composed as the Elf-lord. 

When the Lord Elrond’s time ended, Alais turned and motioned Legolas over. “Rub him down with the oil soaked sponge and then,” she looked to Haldir, “Make sure he has plenty of salve inside him.”

The first touch of the oil on his angry skin made Elrond’s breath leave him in a hiss, and Legolas jerked his hand back as if he’d burned himself.

“It’s fine, Legolas, just go more lightly with the sponge,” Elrond assured him, quietly. 

His sponge returned, more carefully than before, spreading oil over a thick pad of scar tissue on the older Elf’s shoulder, obviously left from a nasty battle wound. It was more fun to rub the oil over Elrond’s bare chest and the insides of his thighs than the reddened flesh left by the flogger.

“Don’t forget the most important bits,” Celeborn reminded him.

“I’ll take care of those bits…” Haldir offered. 

Lord Celeborn clucked his tongue at his Captain disapprovingly. “Isn’t that how you came to be awaiting your own punishment in the first place, Haldir? Don’t worry. We have something quite special planned for you and our not-Prince. We are going to put your competitive natures to good use tonight.”

Legolas stepped back and let Haldir work his fingers and a generous dollop of salve into Lord Elrond’s arse. He was panting a little by the time the job was done to the other’s satisfaction, and he’d only been watching and not actually feeling inside the hot, sensitive passage. 

He looked up to see Celeborn’s eyes were on him and not Haldir and Elrond. “Now that Elrond is ready for the second part of his punishment, it is time for your floggings.” 

 

Elrond had taken far worse abuse to his body than a simple flogging by a merciful hand. Lady Alais was indeed a wonder with the bundle of leather strips. She’d brought his skin to life, a warm, tingling awareness. The feeling wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d feared it would be. 

He turned to Lady Alais, “I believe the proper response to a flogging is to thank the one who administered it, so I thank you, my Lady.” He lowered his head a fraction in deference. “I like this hidden side of you we’ve managed to uncover today.”

Alais was caught off guard by the compliment and her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink as she flushed and lowered her head in shy acknowledgement.

Celeborn cleared his throat. 

Elrond put his wrists together in front of his body. 

“Binding your wrists seems rather unnecessary. I have no fear you are going to bolt, and really, where would you go? This is your city.”

Though Elrond could think of more than a few places in his city where Celeborn wouldn’t find him if he chose to disappear, he held his tongue.

“I saw ribbons on the table, and I’m thinking they would enhance the sensations for you, if we used them to bind your genitals.”

Another new experience for this Midsummer. The thought amused Elrond as the other Elf-lord instructed one of his acolytes in exactly how he wanted cock and balls bound. 

First, though, the young man pleasured his flaccid organ until it was at full erection. Not as skilled a tongue as Legolas, but it felt good just the same. The ribbons kept him hard, though they didn’t dig into his flesh in a painful way. 

Celeborn tugged one of his braids like the reins of a horse. “Come with me.”

Elrond really didn’t want to see the floggings of Haldir and Legolas, so he followed the other Eldar to the third tier of the Pavillion. 

“I’m going to give you the choice, standing or on the couch?”

It wasn’t much of a choice. “Couch.”

“Face down will be a mercy on your back.”

Elrond nodded, and assumed the chosen position on the wide, padded bench while Celeborn drew the curtain for privacy and removed his clothes. 

“You look puzzled,” Celeborn stated. 

“I have to wonder why you are here, with me, when there are much more attractive Eldar to punish.” His hand gestured to Celeborn’s obvious arousal. “Is this something you’ve wanted for a while? Having me under you?”

Celeborn laughed, shaking his head. “No. I assure you. The thought never occurred to me, until I stumbled upon you with Alais and Haldir in the garden. I’m not sure who I was more jealous of.” His expression grew thoughtful. “Speaking of jealousy, did you think to wear mithril to catch my attention and limit my involvement with Legolas today?”

“No.” Elrond shook his heas emphatically. “I give out mithril at Midsummer, and I dabble with the most basic of nasque, but I wouldn’t be wearing it if not to appease Glorfindel for my earlier indiscretions. I’d like to say I know better than to make myself a target of someone with a reputation in nasque, but I seem to be here in any case.”

Celeborn was completely casual as he made his way to the couch and settled himself on his knees between Elrond’s legs. His hands spread Elrond’s knees as wide as the bench would allow, and then kissed his way up the other Elf-lord’s spine, settling his weight carefully on the reddened flesh of his back. 

The painfully full erection he sported lined up perfectly with the body under him, and it took little movement of his hips to press into Elrond’s ass until he was buried to the hilt in one smooth, slow thrust.

Elrond moaned, low and breathy, and pushed back as much as he could on the member stretching his anus. 

Celeborn rested his chin on Elrond’s shoulder and his breathing stirred his dark hair and tickled his ear. The silver-haired Elf-lord hummed, completely content to hold still and just fill Elrond up. 

Elrond rocked under him, encouraging, until he withdrew most of the way and shoved roughly back into the slick heat. 

Their bodies moved together and in counter-point for a long while, and Elrond enjoyed it more than he felt he should. 

“You are pleasantly hot inside. Is that normal, or a side effect of the young bucks rutting in you all day?”

Elrond chuckled, making his arse clench around Celeborn’s erection. “Normal. Though many bucks are rutting within me today, young and old.”

“Is this too strange for you?”

“If you would move faster…” Elrond grunted. 

Celeborn rumbled, “Not what I meant. We’ve never been intimate before.”

Elrond had known what the other meant, and he sighed because he wasn’t going to be allowed to dodge the subject. “Glorfindel thought it would be great fun to make wearing mithril a part of my atonement. I wasn’t trying to catch your eye, or keep you from bedding Legolas.”

“You felt the need to warn the Prince about me.”

“Yes.”

“Do you really think I would have hurt him? Is that how little you trust me?”

Elrond sighed. “If I didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be welcome in Rivendell, but rumors about you do persist. If there wasn’t some level of trust, I certainly wouldn’t be playing this game of dominance and submission… or letting you fuck me.”

“Why is it we can’t seem to get past the cool formality between us? Have I done something to offend you?”

The Elf-lord thought about it, and found something came readily to mind. “You threatened to carve my heart out.” It was a memory Elrond had always held on to. As a warrior, it was unwise to ever forget a potential enemy.

Celeborn stopped thrusting and started laughing. “That was a very long time ago. You were about to marry my only child.”

“It was a sincere threat.”

“Yes, it was, at the time,” Celeborn admitted. His hands gathered Elrond’s dark hair and moved it to the side, then he pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot just behind the Elf-lord’s ear, where ear met jaw. It was an affectionate kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect match, and I can never repay you for the three beautiful grandchildren you’ve gifted us with.” Celeborn’s voice broke, and with it the playful mood of the ‘punishment’ he’d been giving the other Elf-lord. 

Elrond’s nostrils flared. “Perfect match? Are you mad? Celebrian sailed to the Undying Lands…” 

“That was not your fault.” Celeborn pulled out of Elrond’s body and sat up, allowing Elrond to get up to a sitting position on the bench beside him. 

The Elf-lord shook his head. “If not mine, then whose fault was it?”

“Sauron’s. The Orcs. Never yours.” There was sorrow in the silver-haired Elf’s eyes. “Have you been carrying the weight of blaming yourself in your heart all this time?”

Elrond nodded, and was mildly surprised when Celeborn pulled him into a long embrace, and then he kissed him. “I never expected perfection from you.” Celeborn sighed. “No one is perfect, and yet you come closer than almost everyone in that regard, especially in your patience and compassion.” 

Elrond shook his head, “No.”

“Yes,” the older Eldar insisted. “Just look at how the inhabitants of Rivendell flock to show appreciation at the very first opportunity you present them. And they aren’t the only one today who would like to show appreciation. I wouldn’t be dragging you into the nasque play if I didn’t think you would enjoy it.” Celeborn ran a finger over the scar on Elrond’s shoulder. “I think you’ve forgotten what it feels like to be taken by someone who has Ages of practice…”

The Lord of Imladris found he couldn’t deny it. “It has been a long time, and you are very good,” Elrond admitted, with a small smile. 

“Then, why are we still talking? I’m sure you want me to open the curtain soon, so you can watch the contest between Legolas and Haldir. And if you thought the line of your fervent admirers was gone, you are quite mistaken. Even quiet Lindir has appeared hoping to get his gwib in your ass.”

Elrond rolled his eyes and resumed his earlier face down position. “I still don’t understand it.” 

Celeborn nipped his jaw. “You underestimate yourself.”

“I wonder which one of us is going to face the wrath of your Lady wife.”

The Lord of Lorien worried Elrond’s earlobe with hot teeth, stopping only for a second to slide back into the offered arse, giving him another sample of Celeborn’s thousands of years of practiced skill. “She didn’t try to stop me from coming here today.”

“Feels too good to resist.”

“We can take our time later. No hourglass.”

“I think I might look forward to it.”

“Oh, you will.”


	12. Chapter 12

Elrond gasped as the thin fabric used for their privacy was pulled back revealing the two most lovely Eldar in Rivendell bound together by ropes at their wrists and ankles. Haldir and Legolas faced each other, arms stretched above their heads by a rope wrapped over the supports at the center of the arching dome. 

Lady Alais and her flogger reddened their skins while Elrond had been occupied by Celeborn. Each new flick of her wrist made them rub against each other in the most obscene, but somehow beautifully erotic, way. 

It wasn’t until she walked around from Legolas to Haldir he was able to see the blue ribbons, much like his own, wrapping not individual penises, but holding both swollen organs together. The smooth fabric was darker at the top, and Elrond imagined they were leaking beads of clear, salty fluid as they involuntarily pleasured each other. Or maybe the pleasure wasn’t entirely offered against their wishes, as they seemed to move more than he had under the stinging bite of the leather. 

Elrond huffed out an excited breath when Legolas kissed Haldir hard on the mouth and thrust his hips as a counterpoint to the lashes of the flogger his partner in mischief was taking. 

Several observers turned and glanced in his direction. One of those was indeed Lindir as Celeborn had warned him. 

Elf-lord imagined he looked fairly ridiculous tied to a piece of furniture facedown, naked and spread for all on the highest tier to see. Viewed from below, he hoped some of his dignity was yet intact. 

His faithful assistant’s eyes went wide with surprise. Shock at seeing Lord Elrond being punished wasn’t all of it, though. The raw hunger on Lindir’s face confirmed his desire all too well, but he was on the first tier, and therefore, at the end of whatever line had formed, with little hope of seeing his desire fulfilled.

Celeborn ushered in a new tormentor and turned over the hourglass on the little table. 

Lindir looked away first, turning his eyes back to Legolas and Haldir as the weight of one of the soldiers from Lothlorien settled onto Lord Elrond’s prone body. The young man wasn’t someone Elrond knew by name or face, but the Elf-lord forced himself to relax, and even pushed back as the ellon entered him to make his entrance easier. 

“I don’t know you, do I?” Elrond asked, quietly.

“No, my Lord,” the guard responded, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve only come to Lothlorien recently, and I’ve never been as far from home as Imladris.” He was quite skilled with his gwib for someone so young. 

“Feels good, right there,” Elrond encouraged him. “Where do you come from?”

“I was born in the Grey Havens. I think my parents are disappointed I chose Caras Galadhon to live and join the guard… not our own city.”

Elrond instantly liked him for taking his parents’ feelings into his considerations. “I’m sure they are proud of you no matter where you choose to serve.”

“I hope so.”

“Do I have time to ask why you are with me and not watching your pretty, rebellious Captain getting flogged by a beautiful Lady?” He glanced over at him to see his expression, and was not disappointed a blush had formed on the high cheekbones of the handsome face. 

“I’ve heard tales of you all my life, my Lord, and I’ve seen you from afar a few times, but I’m… not the type you favor. This is the only chance I’ll likely ever get have to have sex with you. Getting to top was really just an added incentive to be first.”

Elrond frowned, “If we’ve never spoken, how can you be so sure?”

“I’m not highborn or blonde, and I’ve done nothing to distinguish myself from all the other Eldar who visit here at Midsummer.” 

The ellon’s pace picked up, spurred by Elrond’s obvious interest in him and his life, but he didn’t quite reach a climax.

“I wouldn’t say you’ve done nothing to make yourself stand apart,” Celeborn commented from his place by the hourglass. “This was a bold move, Calestir. Even I’m impressed you managed to be first in line. For now, your time is up and Lord Elrond owes you no boons for next Midsummer.”

The ellon sighed and pulled out of Elrond’s passage, but before he could get away, the Elf-lord caught him by the scruff of the neck and tugged him down for a long, lingering kiss with lots of tongue play. “I know your name now, Calestir, don’t think I won’t be looking for you later. I am the only one who decides who is my type.” 

The look of complete shock on the youngster’s face was very satisfying as Elrond released him and watched him stumble off to get his clothes back from Celeborn. 

“That bordered on adorable. I’m going to have to make a special report to Galadriel tonight. This is just the sort of tale she loves at Midsummer,” the other Elf-lord remarked when the young Eldar had scurried off. 

“Leave him be. I’m sure Haldir will be rough enough on him.”

“I beg to differ. He’s going to be a lauded as hero, possibly for years. Especially, if it gets out you are interested in someone who isn’t blonde.”

Elrond rolled his eyes. 

His attention was drawn back to the first tier, and he found Haldir scowling at someone behind Elrond at the edge of the curtain. He didn’t need to see behind him to know who was next in line. 

It could only be Lindir, and Elrond had to wonder what he’d done to get so close to the front of the line in so little time. 

Maybe, it was better if he didn’t know. 

There was shuffling behind him as Lindir undressed and Elrond called out to him, “For the love of the Valar, Lindir, I had hoped you at least would be spared from watching me make a fool of myself tonight. My dignity is now utterly lost.”

Celeborn threw back his head and laughed. “Dignity is overrated at Midsummer. Go ahead, boy. Fuck the hell out of the grumpy old Elf-lord. Take as long as you please. I’m not even going to turn the hourglass on you.” 

“Cheating,” Elrond rumbled.

“I know your penchant for working your people like thralls, and if Lindir wants to have you, I’m sure you drive him hard enough he’s earned the right.”

Elrond sighed, “You claim to want to be better friends, my Lord, and then heap more shame upon me while I am already laid low.” It was mostly good-natured dramatics, but he did feel a little guilty for how hard Lindir worked.

“Can he turn over?” Lindir asked Celeborn, in a hushed tone.

“I suppose we can undo the ropes and have him turn over.”

“Yes, please, my Lord.”

Elrond turned over and revealed the erection he’d been trying to hide between his body and the bench’s thick down padding. “I’m yours, Lindir. Do with me as you will.”

Lindir glanced at Celeborn, again. “You are serious about the timekeeping?”

Lord Celeborn grinned. “Quite serious.”

Instead of mounting Elrond and rutting mercilessly, Lindir unwound the ribbons and took the Elf-lord’s erection deep into his throat. 

Already over-stimulated, Lindir brought Elrond to a quick, hard climax before bending his knees up until Elrond was folded in half, and slowly filling him. 

This position put them nose to nose and the look of awe on his young assistant’s face as he sank into Elrond’s body was a treasure without price. “I wish I felt like I’d done something more to earn a look like that,” Elrond confessed. “Am I as bad as Celeborn seems to think me?”

“If you worked me too hard, I’d complain,” Lindir stated, while withdrawing all but the tip of him before sliding it home, again. “And if I knew you were going to be throwing all the rules out the window, my Lord, I would have been first in line, not second. I only heard of your punishment when one of the servers brought my dinner tray.”

Elrond caught Lindir’s chin in his hands and kissed him, tasting his salty cream on the other’s tongue. “Are you under the impression I only take blondes to my bed, too?”

Lindir debated his answer for a few thrusts, before nodding, “Yes.”

“Not all my lovers have pale hair,” Elrond said, wincing. “I’ve bedded all sorts of Eldar since my youth in the First Age.” To soothe the young ellon’s ego, Elrond added, “I’ve always found you to be quite attractive, as do many others in Rivendell. That’s the reason Haldir chased you into hiding in the library this year, is it not?”

Lindir’s lovely thrusting in his ass faltered and he nodded at what Elrond had said.

“I hope you and I can come to some sort of understanding after we get some sleep and I find someone to heal me from all this punishment.”

Lindir’s eyes widened, “Am I hurting you?”

“No, you feel good inside me, and with more practice you would find your confidence and be nearly perfect. I’m just worried Glorfindel is next.” 

The look on Lindir’s face told him he’d guessed correctly. “Whatever you had to promise him to cut the line, I’ll make sure he doesn’t hold you to it.”

Lindir shuddered, burying his face in the crook of Elrond’s neck as he struggled to hold back his climax. 

“You have an advantage over Haldir and Legolas, I think.”

“I do?”

Elrond smiled at him and kissed his cheek, trailing his lips to Lindir’s ear. “I have no claim to either of them, but this is your home and that means you are mine, Lindir.”

It was the perfect thing to say and well timed, as it sent Lindir into spending the hot seed Elrond could feel leaking from him with the last few rough pumps of Lindir’s hips.

Celeborn chuckled, low and deep. “I knew you had it in you, Lindir. You’ve earned the right to ask your Lord to bend over for you next year, or anything else you want him to do.”

Elrond smirked at how easy it had been to make Lindir loose control over his body with just a few heartfelt words. “Whatever you wish, as Lord Celeborn said. I’m sure you will think of something, and I look forward to it.” He kissed Lindir affectionately on the cheek. “Speaking of Celeborn, if he wasn’t watching, I think I’d roll you off this couch and claim you for all the people below us to see.”

Elrond expected Lindir to respond with passion, but instead he saw a brief glimpse of fear pass in Lindir’s eyes before he blinked and it was gone. 

Before he could inquire, Celeborn asked, “What is it between you and Haldir? Why does he have you playing the scurrying mouse in your own library?” 

Lindir bit his lip, causing Elrond to exchange a puzzled frown with Lord Celeborn over Lindir’s shoulder. The Elf-lord pulled his assistant into a hug, wrapping him protectively with his arms. “Haldir threatened to find him this year and fuck him raw.”

The body in his tight embrace shuddered, but unfortunately it had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with fear.

Celeborn’s eyes narrowed. “Has he hurt you? I would think he meant it as an invitation for pleasure and not a threat made with malicious intent. Haldir can be haughty and difficult, but I’ve never known him to pursue one who is not willing or cause intentional injury to a lover.”

“I found him enjoyable and thoughtful when it comes to sexual acts,” Elrond agreed. 

“I’ve never understood why Eldar enjoy that type of sex. I tried, once, and it was painful and humiliating,” Lindir confided to his Lord. 

The Elf-lords shared another non-verbal exchange, this one longer and more meaningful. Several things were communicated and Celeborn nodded and turned to the table to retrieve the salve. 

For his part, Elrond kissed his young apprentice on the cheek and stroked his silky hair in a gesture of comfort. “Not all Eldar enjoy anal sex, and I’m sorry you were hurt, but I’m pleased you had the courage to try. Pain is usually the sign of an inexperienced partner not taking care with the preparation of your body. There is some burning in the beginning, but it should always fade as the nerves become accustomed to more and different stimulation.”

“There shouldn’t be pain,” Celeborn added, as he approached them. “If you want, we can give you a small, harmless demonstration.”

“Do you trust me, Lindir, to touch you in such an intimate, private place?”

Dark eyes met his, worry creases furrowed his brow and his lovely mouth was pursed, but he said, “I do… you, more than anyone...”

“Your trust humbles and honors me, Lindir.” 

Elrond lowered his legs to a more comfortable position. Then, he coaxed Lindir to slide up until he had a good grip on the ellon’s buttocks. He kneaded the firm mounds with his rough hands for a few minutes until Lindir relaxed and rested his pointy chin on Elrond’s shoulder.

“Does your trust extend to me, fair Lindir?” Celeborn asked. “I will cease anytime you say.”

“I think I can trust you, my Lord.” 

Elrond didn’t think Lindir would have agreed if he hadn’t been in the safety of Elrond’s arms. He smiled, full of pride and tenderness.

Celeborn coated Elrond’s fingers with lubricating salve, then the other Elf-lord dipped a single digit of his own in the little clay pot. 

Elrond caressed the warm crease down to Lindir’s anus, enjoying the shudder his ministrations produced. If he enjoyed making his inexperience assistant tremble, the shaking grew exponentially went the pad of Celeborn’s thumb joined him to circle the sensitive puckered flesh. 

“Oh,” Lindir gasped, in his ear, making him chuckle. 

“Shall we stop here?”

Lindir squirmed and opened his legs wider, “No, not yet.”

Celeborn grinned, mischief making his eyes sparkle. 

“I think Lord Celeborn wants to add a little pressure…” 

And he did, making Lindir’s breath hiss against Elrond’s ear as he started to ease his thumb into just the barest edge of the opening, stretching the first ring of sensitive muscles ever so slightly. 

“The anus should always be stretched with fingers or a small phallic object before anyone tries to put something the girth of an erect penis into it. If a partner wants to forgo preparation, they aren’t a partner you want. You should walk away, or better yet, run,” Elrond instructed him. 

Celeborn’s eyebrow raised at the mention of objects, and Elrond smiled at him. 

The table with the hourglass had been heavy laden with such objects and many had disappeared throughout the course of the day. There was still a small one carved of smooth, silver veined obsidian, though. Perfect size and shape for a virgin arse.

“Objects are too cold,” Celeborn disagreed. “Flesh is better, warm and more merciful to the nerve endings lining the passage.”

“Flesh is very nice, too,” Elrond amended. “Did you know, Lindir, that Men burn like fire inside?” Elrond offered the observation from his own experience. 

“Really?” Lindir asked, obviously thinking of the only Man he knew, Aragorn.

Celeborn rolled his eyes, and sighed, “Yes, Men have heighten body temperatures. And Dwarves are cooler, despite their stubborn, pigheaded natures and nasty tempers.”

Now, it was Elrond’s turn to be surprised. “You didn’t.”

“I didn’t, no,” Celeborn stated firmly. “But, I know of a few who have and it came up in conversation, usually after too much wine. You are closer to Dwarf strongholds than I. We don’t get many in Lothlorien and when they trade with us they seldom stay long.”

Elrond and Lindir winced in unison at the mention of Dwarf visitors. “We’ve had our fill of visiting Dwarves for this Age, haven’t we, Lindir?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Lindir’s head was up and his eyes were on the two elves being punished below, now being tied in complicated bondage with many ropes.

“Look at me, Lindir…” Celeborn called to him. “I’ve had my first finger inside you for at least a full minute and you aren’t feeling any pain are you?”

He looked back at the Elf-lord in surprise, relief plain on his face. “No.”

“We can stop for now, I think, Celeborn. I’m sure he’s had enough.”

Celeborn started to take his finger out and Lindir shook his head, “Wait. Please don’t stop.”

The two Elf-lords traded smirks. 

“What would you have of us?” Celeborn asked Lindir, agreeably. “I should go tell Haldir to save his teasing for more receptive partners.”

“Oh, no. Please don’t. I just…” Lindir stumbled over his words. “Could you… do you think I could have my boon now?”

Elrond stroked his cheek. “Depends on what you want, I suppose.”

“Make me ready for him. For Haldir, I mean. Then, I would feel better about him finding me later.” 

Celeborn blinked once, slowly, as if pondering Lindir’s sanity, or maybe his courage. “You took one finger. I don’t think it would be too much too soon for me to add a second or even a third.”

To that, Elrond added, “That isn’t worth the price of a boon, though. Neither of us would turn down such a request from any Eldar at Midsummer. I’d rather you be prepared by us than have to find you and heal you tomorrow.” 

Their touches were gentle on the young Eldar as they coaxed his reluctant body to take something where it wasn’t designed to fit. 

Celeborn handled the stretching and Elrond drugged Lindir senseless with kisses to the point he didn’t notice Celeborn’s questing fingers, at all. It didn’t take long. Celeborn wiped his fingers on a towel and smacked Lidir’s bottom. “Finished. Three fingers is plenty for an erection.”

“Are you sure?” Lindir asked, but he was looking at Elrond for confirmation.

“There is a way to find out.” 

Celeborn tugged Lindir’s hips down the bench and lined his body up with Elrond’s erection. The Elf-lord rubbed salve on Elrond’s penis and pressed the swollen tip to the glistening opening of Lindir’s passage and gave the Elf one last small tug, sliding him down onto the erection. 

Elrond moaned, loudly enough that it echoed in the space.

Lindir whimpered, “Ah… Oh,” as his body clenched around the invader. 

“Are you okay?” Elrond asked, anxious and ready to pull out at the first sign of pain in his partner.

“It doesn’t hurt, just feels strange and full.”

Celeborn walked around the couch until he could see Lindir’s face. “Wait until he moves, or you do. It will feel even better.”

Elrond lifted his hips very slowly, and then lowered them. Next, he circled his hips, emboldened by the virginal ellon’s expression and the stream of filthy Sindarin curses Lindir was mumbling under his breath as he learned to ride Elrond’s cock. 

“And now, I have something else to report to my wife. You really do have a way with the youngsters at Midsummer,” Celeborn remarked to Elrond. “I’m going to close the drape and then we can finish your punishment.”

Elrond heard a snarl from Glorfindel and an answering chuckle from Celeborn. “I’m afraid Lord Elrond is quite played out. His punishment is at an end. You can have him anytime, greedy Balrog-slayer.”

He returned to the bench and opened his robe to reveal a throbbing erection, which he rubbed with a small amount of salve before sheathing himself in Elrond’s ass. 

Now, it was Elrond’s turn to mutter crude Sindarin curses under his breath. 

A few minutes and Lindir’s cock erupted all over Elrond’s bare belly and chest. 

Celeborn was next, pounding Elrond mercilessly and spending deep inside him with a grunt of satisfaction. 

Elrond was ready to come, but he didn’t want to make Lindir’s first time end too quickly. 

It was Celeborn replacing his spent cock with the cool stone phallus that had Elrond seeing stars, and howling a curse used by Men and questioning the legitimacy of Celeborn’s parentage. 

Lord Celeborn smacked his already injured arse for that as Lindir climbed off of him and stumbled to find his clothes. 

“If we hurry we can catch the last bit of Legolas and Haldir try to make each other climax…” Celeborn told Elrond.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for rope bondage, anal, groupsex and voyeurism. 
> 
> Translation: Nîn - Mine

"I should have guessed tales of Lord Elrond's punishment would reach Lindir's ears and flush my skittish rabbit from his hiding place," Haldir said, giving Legolas' scrotum a much needed rest from his tongue. "When I've won this silly game, and earned my chance to pound you into oblivion, Legolas, I'm going to find Lindir and make him beg for mercy."

Legolas let out a sigh of relief at the reprieve, because he'd been perilously close to losing the contest Lady Alais started to see which of them could make the other orgasm first. Bound and suspended far off the ground, on their sides facing each other, they hung from from half a dozen ropes in the center of the open space with only their forearms and hands free to help them maneuver and pleasure each other's unbound, vulnerable genitals. 

They were both still far too slippery and tingling from the lashes, but the ropes were surprisingly comfortable for how restrictive they were.

It wasn't as easy to make Haldir climax as Legolas first anticipated. When he got close to victory, Haldir would do something daring and scandalously erotic to Legolas to break his concentration, like sticking his tongue in the Prince's ass or taking a testicle into his hot, wet mouth. Legolas wasn't ready to give up the struggle and admit he was outclassed in this game by the beautiful ellon from Caras Galadhon, yet, though. To be defeated meant Haldir would get freedom from his bonds and the right to fuck Legolas while he was still bound and hanging from the rafters like a spider's dinner. 

As much as he wanted the sex, Legolas wanted to win, too, especially if Haldir was already plotting his next seduction and it didn't include Legolas. He redoubled his efforts and earned a chuckle from Haldir.

"Are you jealous?" Haldir chided him. "Don't worry, pretty Prince, I'm not going to leave the Pavilion until I've had you, win or lose this little game."

Lady Alais tutted at them. "I can see we aren't getting the two of you to a satisfactory conclusion, so I'm going to change the rules of this contest." She picked up an hour glass and held it up to the spectators. "For the span of the sand, I'm going to allow each ellon to choose an assistant from those watching. Legolas, please choose someone to help you bring Haldir to his finish. Then, Haldir, you may choose as well."

Legolas didn't know who to choose, until he saw a scowling Glorfindel coming down the steps into their area of Pavilion from above. "Glorfindel."

Haldir gasped completely taken by surprise by the Prince's choice, but he soon recovered enough that he growled, "Elrohir."

"Fair enough," Alais chuckled. "The time begins now."

"What would you have of me, Prince?" Glorfindel asked, no longer looking quite so dour.

Legolas licked his lips and took hold of the ropes at Haldir's hips to keep him from moving. "Put your enormous gwib in his ass," he commanded the Balrog slayer. 

Glorfindel laughed, delighted. "It would be my pleasure."

"I'll just bet," Haldir said, with a scowl at the larger, more well endowed Elda. "Elrohir, you've wanted to poke the wood-elf Prince, haven't you?"

"Oh yes, absolutely," the son of Elrond responded, grinning like a madman. 

"Do it," he growled. "We've got a contest to win. I've been waiting all day, and I will not be denied for much longer."

Legolas hissed through his teeth as he was subjected to the double pleasure assault of internal and external stimulation and not able to get away from either. Haldir was having his own issues, though. Glorfindel's thrusts drew grunts from deep in his chest as he took the pounding Legolas hoped would save him from losing the contest. 

"Glorfindel is enjoying this very much," Legolas taunted Haldir. "You should see the look of pure joy on his face..."

His opponent didn't have a snide or witty comeback for the taunting, though. Haldir's response was to swallow the Prince's cock until it bumped the back of his throat, humming appreciatively around it. Legolas panted and moaned, sure he was going to pass out if this game continued much longer. 

It was all made more torturous by the sounds of sex and the shadowy candlelight figures he could see behind the cloth on the third tier. Haldir was distracted by it as well, his eyes narrowed at the increase in volume from behind the curtain, but he didn't show Legolas any mercy. If anything, it made the other more intent on finishing Legolas before Legolas found the magic formula of fingers and tongue to make him orgasm first. 

The Prince made a panicked sound and a last effort as he felt the building up of an impending climax and tried to get away from Haldir's mouth, but Elrohir's grip on the ropes at his hips made it impossible. His seed spilled into Haldir's mouth as he thrashed like a fish in a net, moaning with relief. 

Denial of a climax had never been a consideration for the Prince before this day, and he hoped it was a long time before he was punished in this manner again. 

Haldir swallowed Legolas' seed and gave his softened cock a kiss before turning to Elrohir and commanding, "Enough. Legolas is mine, now."

Alais laid a hand on his shoulder, "Not so fast. It is hardly fair to ask those who helped you to stop before they reach orgasm."

"I don't mind going unsatisfied, as long as I get to watch them," Elrohir said, agreeably. 

Glorfindel's pace didn't slow in Haldir's tight passage. "I'm not quite ready to give up my conquest," he stated, hips pumping faster.

"Nor should you be, Glorfindel," Alais nodded. "Haldir isn't someone who offers his body to just anyone in Rivendell. Savor the moment."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

Haldir wasted no time once he gained freedom from the ropes. He knelt beside Legolas and kissed his lips. "Are you ready, my prize? I've been very patiently awaiting my turn."

"I'm ready," Legolas nodded. 

They kissed once more and Haldir gracefully rose to his feet and took his place between the Prince's splayed thighs. He kept his pace deliberately slow, relishing each thrust into the perfect heat of Legolas' body. 

Alais and the other Eldar blended back into the draped folds of the fabric and moved on to other areas or watched with silent admiration, and it was just two ellon lost in each other's passion for while. As much as he was enjoying their passionate coupling, Haldir wanted to watch the pleasure he gave play across the open, unguarded features of the Prince, and that meant he needed to change their position. 

He patted the Prince's bottom, "Legolas, I'm going to pull out for a minute and grab the bench. I have an idea for a better position."

"Oh yes, please," Legolas sighed, sounding extremely relieved. "I'm not enjoying hanging around. This swinging to and fro must be what sea-sickness feels like on a sailing ship."

The ellon from Lothlorien chuckled, "I'll be right back." He'd been so completely focused on Legolas, Hadlir didn't realize he was being watched by his Lord and Lord Elrond. 

Lord Celeborn met him beside the bench, "Do you want us to free Legolas for you?"

"No, but it would be good if you could lower him a bit once I have the bench under him, if you please." 

Haldir tugged the furniture where he wanted it and laid back on it. "Oh, this is a vast improvement." Legolas was still bound, but once the ropes suspending him were loosened he was straddling Haldir: face to face, chest to chest, and Haldir wasted no time impaling the wood-elf on his weeping gwib. "Ride me, my lovely not-Prince," he commanded. His fingers caressed his lover's cheek, "I want to see your face when I make you come apart for me." Their lips met, over and over at every possible angle, tongues clashing and vying for dominance.

The Prince obediently fuck himself senseless and incoherent on Haldir, not even slowing his pace the first time Haldir howled and spilled his seed into his body with rough thrusts of his hips.

Legolas leaned in as close as the ropes still binding his upper arms and chest would allow, calloused fingers teased the outer edges of his partner's ears until Haldir was panting and moaning into his mouth. "I like to see your face as you orgasm, too, it seems," he said, grinning cheekily.

"Much better this way," Haldir agreed. 

"Only way it could be sweeter would be if an Elf-lord was pounding your arse while I ride you."

Haldir moaned, the suggestion making his testicles draw up in excited response. "Ugh, no. Well, maybe later." 

Legolas laughed and Haldir loved the wicked edge to his amusement. "We are not done, Prince. I doubt we will be found much outside of my bed for several days."

"What about Lindir?" Legolas pouted. 

"I'll get around to him before the sun rises, and then I'm all yours."

Lord Elrond cleared his throat, "I don't think it will be quite so easy for you to keep Legolas all to yourself."

"Nîn," Haldir told the dark haired Elf-lord. "Nîn, Nîn, Nîn."

"Greed is unbecoming, Haldir," Lord Celeborn told him, highly amused by his possessive behavior over the Prince. "Must we teach you how to share?"

Haldir didn't have time to respond other than to groan as Celeborn brought the younger Elf's ankles up to rest on his shoulders his shoulders and surged into him. 

"This is called sharing," the Elf-lord told him, between thrusts. "You will need to practice this skill many times before we go home."

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

An hour before sunrise, Legolas stumbled into Lord Elrond's garden and waded into the waterfall fed pool with his clothing still haphazardly in place. This was greeted by a chorus of chuckles from those already lounging around the edges of the large pool.

"I found him," Elladan crowed, entering the garden in triumph. "Or maybe I should say I rescued our wood-elf not-Prince from the clutches of a group of very lovely, but overly enthusiastic musicians who were blowing on his instrument." He stripped his clothing off and followed Legolas into the water.

Lord Elrond tutted, leaving his place on the carved stone bench built into the perimeter of the pool to meet Legolas in the chest deep water at its center. His hands fumbled to get the wet fastenings open on the Prince's tunic and breaches. "You've had a long day," he told Legolas, sympathetically. "We all have. And I shudder to think of the messes I'm going to have to clean up tomorrow."

Legolas pulled his tunic over his head and tossed the sodden cloth out of the pool. His half closed eyes met Elrond's, "You won't find a mess if you refuse to leave your bed."

The Elf-lord gave a booming, delighted laugh. Turning to Lord Celeborn, he said, "I should have known we'd create a monster."

"Better a happy, sated Prince than a touch starved one, I suppose."

Freed of his wet clothes, Legolas let Lord Elrond's hands on his bare shoulders steer him to an empty section of bench where the Elf-lord sat first and pulled the Prince down to sit across his lap. Legolas was too tired to care if his comrades saw him snuggle against their father's chest and rest his forehead on Elrond's shoulder. It felt good, and  
Legolas reasoned Elrond would save him if he dozed and his head slipped under the water. 

Eyes closed, Legolas heard two more Elves enter the garden.

"We were summoned, my Lords?" Haldir stated. 

"You were," Lord Elrond told them. "The water is refreshingly cool. Join us." As an afterthought, he added, "Take your clothes off first, though." His tone was wry with amusement, and he placed a kiss on Legolas' cheek. "I've already had to undress one intoxicated Elda, and now my lap is occupied." Legolas grunted and mumbled something he knew was unintelligible. "No, you stay put, Legolas." His arms tightened around the Prince's waist to keep him from getting up.

Elladan chuckled, "Look at that, Haldir? Have you ever seen anything more adorable than a drunken, oversexed Princeling cuddling with an old Elf-lord?"

"It's sweet," Elrohir agreed. "We should have Alais sketch them like this and make a painting for his bedchamber in the Elvenking's palace."

Legolas grunted, again. The only outward sign he gave to still being awake and listening. 

"Ai, its too cold..." Lindir yelped, as he was pushed forward into the water by an anxious, naked Haldir. 

"It will be refreshing... once you get used to it," Haldir told him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Aww, look, brother. He kissed Lindir on the cheek. Come sit by me, Lindir, and I'll kiss your other cheeks," Elrohir teased him. 

Legolas opened an eye to look at the twin, but it drifted shut again almost immediately after seeing Lindir did not move in the direction of the twins. Instead, he settled on Haldir's lap, and Haldir smirked triumphantly at the sons of Elrond over Lindir's dark head. 

"Adorable traitor, Lindir. We'll still be here long after that fair-haired fool is gone back up into his treehouse." 

"So this is where all the most attractive ellyn are hiding..." Lady Alais said, approaching the edge of the pool and taking in the assembled faces. "I'm honored to have received a summons to join such a pretty party."

Celeborn got up and approached the edge of the pool nearest her. "The party isn't pretty enough quite yet, because you are still clothed and dry. Join us, won't you, my dear?"

Her smiled brightened, and Alais took a cautious step back from the approaching Elf-lord. "I have a feeling, if I refuse, I will find myself naked and in the frigid water in any case."

"Very perceptive of you," Celeborn said, holding out a hand to her. "Don't make me get out and strip you and toss you into the pool."

Alais untied the ribbons at the shoulders of her gown and let it fall away, taking Celeborn's hand and allowing him to assist her into the pool. She settled beside him on the bench and he put an arm around her shoulders. 

"Did you manage to find Calestir after everything settled down?" Celeborn asked Lord Elrond.

Elrond nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips, "He wasn't hard to find. His hair is a most unusual color, like a fiery sunset; I think like it even better than the pale blonde." Then, he turned the query back on Lord Celeborn, "Did you find the youngster from dinner who needed his curiosity about the sexual skills of the Eldar of the First Age?"

"I did. He has a much deeper respect for his elders tonight." He pressed a kiss to Alais' forehead. "And I find myself with a deeper sense of awe and admiration for my former acolyte... You remembered much more of my lessons than I imagined possible, after so much time away from nasque, my dear Alais." 

She returned his smile, "They were impressive lessons from an excellent teacher."

Elladan sighed, and huffed, "We're not going to lose you back to Lothlorien, Alais. This is your home, now."

Alais nodded, "It is my home, and I will return to it, Elladan. Do not fear."

"We'll come and get you, if you go back on your promise."

"Even if we have to risk the Lady's displeasure."

The two Elf-lords looked at each other and smiled knowingly. Nobody in their right minds went head to head with Galadriel if they didn't absolutely have to. "I think your sons have had too much of the fine Dorwinion Legolas brought with him from Mirkwood. They are obviously intoxicated if they think Galadriel won't put them in their places in short order, and with no effort whatsoever."

"It will be amusing to watch," Elrond agreed. To Legolas, he added, "Will you stay on for a time and help me with mend Aragorn's broken heart?"

Legolas smiled, eyes still closed, "Mmmhmmm."

"Good."

Celeborn mused, "On the subject of my Lady wife, I think she will be sorry she missed meeting Legolas."

"Could visit," Legolas muttered. "Not too far..." Legolas meant he could visit Caras Galadhon, his father could hardly object to his desire to meet and introduce himself to their neighbors in Lothlorien. "Very friendly neighbors," he sighed to himself as he drifted into sleep.


	14. Epilogue - Set during Fellowship Of The Ring

"Legolas, if I could have a few moments of your time..." Lord Celeborn called, over the din of the other members of the Fellowship eating their meal.

"Of course, my Lord," Legolas responded, lowering his head in respect. He followed the Elf-lord to another area of the tree city, the Elf-Lord's private sitting room. 

When they were away from the others, Celeborn regarded the younger man solemnly. "Why did you join this Fellowship? If it is to prove something..."

"I have nothing to prove," Legolas assured him. He walked to the small hearth at the far side of the room and stared into the flames. 

"Then why in the world have you committed yourself to this folly? You can't possibly believe this momentous task can be done by two Men, four Halflings, a Dwarf and a single, young Eldar Prince."

Legolas' lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes narrowed, "They are Hobbits."

"If your father learns you came through Caras Galadhon on your way to Mount Doom, there will be bad blood between us and our Silvan kin, at a time when we can afford it least. King Thranduil will want to know why I didn't throw the lot of you into cells and send you back to him bound hand and foot."

Legolas scowled, "My life is my own, as are my choices on what to do with that life."

"Without Gandalf, this Fellowship Elrond created is doomed." He put a hand on the Prince's shoulder. "Stay here with us. Let the others go on to their deaths without you."

"No."

"Please..." The Elf-lord pleaded, eyes misting. 

"I won't abandon Aragorn to his death."

"So you will let him lead you to yours instead?"

"If that is what must be to see the One Ring destroyed."

"Why are you on this side of the river?" Celeborn asked, redirecting the conversation. "Why not travel the Mirkwood side of the Anduin?"

"You of all people know why, my Lord." Legolas sighed, "Lady Galadriel already bears a Elvish Ring of Power, the One Ring must not fall into the hands of someone who covets such a terrible power, like my father."

Celeborn went to him, then, taking his hands and kissing his knuckles. "I lost your grandfather, Legolas. Do I have to watch you fall as well?"

Legolas realized what Celeborn was saying and felt guilty. He pressed a kiss to the Elf-lord's closed lips. "If I can keep Aragorn alive, any sacrifice is worth the price."

"Not to me," Celeborn stated. "Or to your sire, who has no idea his only child and heir is masquerading as a common Elda and planning to walk right up to the enemy and hand him the One Ring on a silken pillow at the gates of Mordor."

Legolas shook his head. "No, my Lord, I believe in our plan. The Ring must be unmade and it isn't the might of any armies who will be able to do it."

"Why must it be you? I can send one of my people in your place, or better yet, a dozen or my best swords arm and archers..."

"Please. Respect my choice to see this through."

"You love him so much." By him, they both knew Celeborn meant Aragorn. 

The Prince nodded, "Yes, I do."

A warm hand caressed Legolas' cheek and lifted his chin until their eyes met and held. So much they left unspoken was said in that one moment with just their eyes, and Celeborn's pained admission, "There are those here who've come to love you, as well, my young friend."

"You understand, then."

"I do, Legolas, but I wish very much I did not understand."

Legolas put his hand over Celeborn's. "If you lose faith in us, my Lord, all is truly lost. We need your help, and that of Lady Galadriel, if we are to see this task done. Please."

After a long moment, Celeborn nodded. "Fine. You will have what aid we can render, I can be reasoned with. You aren't going to have such an easy go of it with Haldir. He'll want to throw you in a sack and make a gift of you to Thranduil."

"I can handle Haldir. I know the trick of it."

Lord Celeborn didn't look any more convinced of that than he did of the chances of the Fellowship's success, but his expression soften and he pulled the Prince into his arms. "I'm sorry about Mithrandir, Legolas. He was my friend, too. You must not blame yourself if he has fallen."

The last thing Legolas wanted was the Lord's gentle sympathy. It cracked the facade he carefully built up to hide his pain from the Hobbits. Tears leaked from his eyes and dampened the shoulder of Celeborn's fine robes. His arms clung around the older man's ribs, and the Prince allowed himself to finally weep. 

"Wizards are more than they appear," Celeborn told him. "And the Valar know we needed Mithrandir for what is to come."

Legolas sighed, "Thank you."

"For what, young Prince?"

"For everything."

Celeborn's arms tightened around his shoulders, "You are most welcome, Legolas."


End file.
